


Life Could Be a Dream, Sweetheart

by ireadhpinenochian



Category: Supernatural
Genre: African Dream Root, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Baker Dean Winchester, Canon-Typical Violence, Domestic Fluff, Dreamscapes, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 08:06:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 33,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12384240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ireadhpinenochian/pseuds/ireadhpinenochian
Summary: Dean is an ex hunter turned bakery owner. Cas is his basically perfect boyfriend with one slight flaw - he never stays the night. When what was supposed to be night terrors turns out to be an actual monster trapped in Cas’ dreams, Dean decides to call in a favor from an old friend. But Cas is reluctant to accept any help for what he views as his responsibility, especially when that help puts Dean in danger. Besides, would the two of them even be enough to take on the monster that Cas has failed to defeat his whole life? Or will the monster prove to be more than a match for the two of them in an ever-changing dreamscape that Cas is only mostly in charge of?





	1. Chapter 1

Castiel crouched atop the stone pillar, looking like a gothic gargoyle with his two large, black wings spread behind him, ten feet on either side. The sky was a deep purple, streaked with pinks and blues that were in the process of giving way to a midnight black. The cityscape below him was in shambles, bombed out, mostly rubble. The few taller buildings that had managed to remain standing tall had flames erupting from blown out windows or even the gaping holes they had acquired during the onslaught.

He was tired, but he knew he still had a while to go.

His adversary was down in that rubble somewhere, recuperating. Cas didn’t want to give him the opportunity to do so, but he had taken a pretty big hit in the last round of fighting as well. He removed his hand from the wound at his side and saw the circle of blood staining his white shirt grow larger, the crimson substance seeping into the starched fabric. The wound was large, but Castiel would survive. He’d certainly survived worse. And technically, as he was always quick to point out to Gabriel, he couldn’t actually die in his dreams. Though, of course, Gabriel always replied that brain dead was as good as dead and that was usually enough to cow Castiel into a huffy silence.

“Won’t be you in there anymore, kiddo. You gotta be smart about this.” It’s what Gabriel always told him whenever Cas started to get anxious. He usually paired it with a knock on the head or a noogie if he was feeling particularly annoying. It was usually enough to quell Cas’ desire to try something reckless.

A breeze picked up and Cas knew that his adversary was getting ready for his next strike. Putting some power behind the thought, Cas healed the wound in his side, a bright blue-white light sealing it over without even leaving a scar.

He had used a lot of power already, so he did have to be careful not to tire himself out too soon, but he was getting close. _So close_.

The structure beneath him began to shift and he knew he had been found. He beat his massive wings behind himself once, twice, and then took to the air, searching the ground as best as he could from his new vantage point. The height did allow him to scour more area, but oftentimes his adversary liked to take the shape of small creatures to evade Cas’ watchful eye. He tended to favor the snake.

Cas kept his eyes peeled for any type of movement through the rubble that wasn’t a flickering flame. It was why the blow to the back of his head came as such a shock.

He went crashing down into the wasteland below him, a crater splintering its way into the earth around him. He grunted as he pushed himself up into a sitting position.

His adversary stood at the lip of the crater. His shape was humanoid, but his limbs were grotesquely elongated and it had two cruel and ragged wings protruding from its own back in a mockery of Castiel’s own.

Castiel knew that wasn’t his true form, but Castiel also doubted his adversary even remembered what his true form was anymore after a lifetime spent changing.

In this form, Castiel’s adversary favored a hissing sort of laugh paired with a susurrus of taunts and threats.

“ _Give up._ ”

            “ _Give up._ ”

“ _You’ll never beat me, Castiel_.”

            “ _Never beat me._ ”

“ _I’ll be with you, in your head, forever._ ”

            “ _Forever_.”

Castiel ignored it all and stood on shaky legs. He shook his wings out, sending a cloud of dirt to settle in the air around him. “Do you really think your old tricks will work on me?” Cas asked. “This form worked quite well to scare me when I was a child, but it’s a little lacking compared to what I see in the movies these days.”

“ _We’re under your skin._ ”

            “ _Under your skin._ ”

Cas rolled his eyes and let his blade drop into existence in his hand.

“ _In your head_.”

            “ _In your head_.”

“ _Forever._ ”

            “ _Forever._ ”

Cas pushed himself into the air with his wings. His landing had blown out all the nearby flames, and now Cas’ wings worked to keep them away.

The pinks and purples in the sky were a strange contrast to the dull grey skin of his adversary, but the crumbled building he stood atop as flames licked their way towards his feet were a perfect match. Castiel thought they would look at home together in hell.

His adversary reached both of its spindly arms out to his sides and Castiel smiled. He just loved to telegraph his moves loud and clear.

Cas gripped his sword tightly, though it wasn’t a sword in the traditional sense. His was a cylinder sharpened and formed into a sharp point. He felt it suited his fighting style the best.

His adversary reached forward suddenly, its arms shooting out and stretching towards Castiel who drew his wings in tightly to his back and dropped through the air. Castiel spun around as he fell and threw his sword at the figure floating there. The real adversary screeched in pain as Castiel’s sword buried itself in his shoulder. Cas flung himself through the air towards his adversary, grabbing the end of his sword already buried in the creature’s shoulder and shoved it in harder, twisting and wrenching.

His adversary roared out, his soft voice giving way to a deep, throaty growl as the form in front of him grew four times its size, turning into a veiny, hairless bearlike creature. A claw swiped at Cas and caught him in the arm. Cas cried out and kicked backwards off of the beast’s belly and back into the air where he hovered and watched as the clawed hands of his adversary’s new form tried to remove the delicate weapon from its shoulder. He was planning the exact spot he was going to strike with the new sword he had manifested into his hand when he felt something hit his back, hard enough to send him sprawling into the dirt.

Cas sprung up from the ground and saw the original adversary standing there, arms still raised from where they had beat into Castiel’s back. He looked to the other form still roaring, but had finally managed to remove the sword from its shoulder. It was now stalking over towards Castiel.

“Well, this is new,” Cas said and then the two creatures pounced.

\--

Castiel woke up exhausted. Castiel _always_ woke up exhausted. He supposed it was part of the job, but that didn’t mean he had to enjoy the perpetual fatigue.

“How you doin’ baby bro?”

Castiel cracked one eye open to see his oldest brother, Gabriel, grinning down at him. “Not too bad, considering.” Considering his head felt like it had been stuffed with firecrackers and they’d all gone off at once.

“You’ve been saying that a lot lately,” Gabe said, checking Cas’ vitals on the screen next to his bed. “Thinking maybe you’re finally getting a leg up on the guy.”

Cas pushed himself up with a wince. “I highly doubt that. I know what it feels like when I’m actually winning, but this…” He sighed and pulled the electrodes from his forehead. “This is different. It’s like he’s planning something.”

“My little brother the optimist.” Gabriel rolled his eyes.

“I can’t afford to be an optimist, Gabe,” Cas said. “If I do, the world ends.”

“Yeesh, I get it. You prefer the term nihilist. Do you always have to bring up the end of the world?”

Cas shrugged. “Only when it’s pertinent. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work in forty and I need to get ready.”

Gabriel made a show of rolling his eyes this time. “Why you decided to get a job is beyond me—“

“I want a normal life, Gabriel,” Cas said, standing on wobbly legs. “Besides, you’re the one that told me to get out more.”

“Yeah, but I meant to a club or a bar. Take up a hobby! But no. I say ‘go have fun’ and you hear ‘go get a boring nine-to-five.’ I don’t like to say this a lot, but sometimes it’s embarrassing being your brother.”

Cas pushed his way past Gabriel. “You say that to me every morning.”

Gabe swung around in his chair to face Cas who was now halfway out the door. “Yeah, but I don’t _like_ to say it.”

“Goodbye, Gabriel,” Cas called, not turning around.

Cas loved his brother, truly, he did, but sometimes he wanted to strangle him. Gabe had pestered him most of his life to ‘be more normal’ and ‘get out more’ and now that Cas had finally taken his advice? Nothing but disapproval. Well, it was lucky that Cas couldn’t care less whether or not Gabe approved of his life choices because they were _his_ life choices. And even crazier—for the first time in his life Cas was _happy_. It was a feeling so foreign to him that in the beginning it was hard to even let himself feel it without the crushing weight of his anxiety telling him that it was going to be ripped away from him at any moment. But now he did his best to crush those anxious feelings and just let himself be.

He took a quick shower and threw on some clothes before heading downstairs to grab some coffee. He basically lived off the stuff.

Cas was pouring the last of the pot into a travel mug when Gabriel entered the kitchen.

“I thought you’d be asleep by now,” Cas said.

“Sleep is for the weak,” Gabe replied, grabbing a chocolate muffin and tearing into it.

Castiel glared at him.

“Well, not in your case.” Flecks of chocolate sprayed out of his mouth as he spoke through his too large bite.

“You’re disgusting,” Castiel told him.

Gabe just shrugged and stuffed the rest of the muffin in his mouth.

Cas rolled his eyes and looked at the clock. “I have to go,” he said. “I’ll probably be back late.”

“This is what I’m talking about, Cassie,” Gabe said, barely audible through his food. After another withering look from Cas, Gabriel managed to swallow the remainder of his food. “Your actual job is stressful enough. Why did you have to go and get yourself a real job and add to it?”

“I work in a bakery. The only stressful time of day is the morning rush, and trust me, after my nights? It’s nothing.”

“You don’t work in a bakery, Castiel, you run a bakery.”

“ _Help_ run a bakery. And I enjoy the work. Especially the accounting. It’s so… monotonous. It’s a nice change.”

Gabriel made a gagging noise. “Oh my god your life is so sad I almost threw up.”

“I see you don’t mind taking full advantage of the benefits of me working at a bakery,” Cas scoffed as Gabe reached for another muffin, this time the apple crumble.

“Well, I mean,” Gabe took a huge bite. “I’m not complaining about the perks.” Crumbs went flying on the last word.

“Who raised you?” Cas asked, wiping a bit of crumble off of his shirt from where it had landed after it flew out of Gabriel’s mouth.

“Mostly me, and I turned out great.” He even threw in a wink.

“You did the same for me, yet somehow I turned out with manners.” Cas cocked his head to the side in thought.

“I tried to train those out of you, but you wouldn’t let me.”

“Small miracles,” Cas said. “And now I really do have to go. I shouldn’t be later than ten.”

\--

Cas unlocked the back door to the bakery and stepped inside. It smelled wonderful, scents like cinnamon and chocolate and strawberry mingling in the warmth of the kitchen, but it was the loud music blaring through the stereo that put a smile on Cas’ face. Led Zeppelin this morning.

“Dean!” Cas called as he swapped his jacket for an apron, black with a white outline of a slice of pie on the front.

Dean pushed through the swinging doors that led to the front of the bakery. “Cas!” He hurried over to the stereo and turned the volume down before walking over to Cas and wrapping him up in his flour covered arms and planting a kiss right on his lips.

Cas had a goofy grin on his face when they broke apart. “Hello, Dean,” he said.

“Hi, Cas.” Dean grinned back and gave him another peck on the lips. “Grab the scones out of the oven for me while I set up the display case?”

“Did you finally try out that new recipe?”

Dean broke the hug with a sheepish smile. “Nah, just the same old stuff.”

“Dean—“

“I know, I know. My stuff is good, I should put it out there.”

Cas gave him a penetrating look. “You should. The things you make now are delicious and they’re just regular flavors.”

“But people _like_ regular flavors.”

“People will also like your cinnamon toast crunch scones and your s’mores muffins. Dean, your ideas are good and I’ve tasted the results. They’re _good_.”

Dean blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. “The recipes still need tweaking.”

“One day I’m going to steal those recipes and make them myself to put out if you won’t.”

Dean’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “Please don’t do that. You’re a terrible baker.”

Cas rolled his eyes and walked over to the now beeping oven. “I left the sugar out one time. One!” He grabbed the red checkered oven mitts and used them to remove the lemon blueberry scones.

“Yeah, but, Cas. You left out the _sugar_. That’s a pretty big deal in most baked goods.”

Cas threw the tray onto the cooling rack with more force than necessary. “We’ve seen people on Cupcake Wars do the same. Mistakes happen.”

“Under intense pressure, sure,” Dean shrugged, casually sauntering over to him. He leaned down and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Usually not when someone reminds you ten times to check you’ve got all the ingredients.”

“I was a beginner. I was distracted.” Cas crossed his arms.

“By what? The list of ingredients in front of you?” Dean laughed.

Cas thought back to that day and felt his cheeks heat up. Dean had been wearing a very tight shirt and jeans that hugged his ass perfectly. Couple that with the fact that it had taken place two months before they got together so Cas had to hide his metaphorical drooling and Cas was pretty sure it was a miracle he didn’t accidentally burn the whole bakery down by accident. “Will you just go and finish the display, please? We’re supposed to open in ten minutes.”

“Fine, fine.” Dean said, holding his hands up in surrender. “You’ll be okay back here? There’s no more mixing left, but you do have to spoon out the cookies onto the—“

Cas grabbed a handful of Dean’s ass and squeezed. “You are dangerously close to not having sex today, Dean.”

Dean cleared his throat. “I’m just going to go and finish the display.”

Cas smirked. “That’s what I thought.”

\--

Ten minutes later Cas unlocked the door and let in the first customers of the day. They had a few regulars there every morning for their decently priced coffee and a muffin and today was no different.

“Hello, Mrs. Hendrix,” Cas said as an elegantly coiffed woman entered in a grey pinstripe suit. “Dean has your coffee and banana nut muffin ready at the counter for you.”

“Thank you,” she said like she was desperate for the caffeine and hurried over to the counter where Dean was placing the lid on one of their to-go cups and sliding it across the counter.

Cas smiled through the morning rush, he usually did with Dean at his side stealing small touches here and there as they reached across each other for pastry bags and to-go boxes, fingers lingering as they passed coffees and espressos. He knew that Gabriel meant well with wanting him to take it easy, but Dean—and all of it really—was what made his life worth living. He’d always had a purpose, sure; he had been born with a very specific one in mind, but that’s all he had been before he stumbled into Dean’s bakery. A purpose rather than a person. And he couldn’t give up his personhood. He wouldn’t.

Cas jumped as he felt Dean’s arms wrap around him but he quickly melted into the embrace. “C’mon, sweetheart,” Dean whispered in his ear. “Rush is over. Let’s eat.”

“Perfect,” Cas said, looking around at the now practically deserted bakery. “I’m starving.”

Dean led him over to their favorite table in the corner and pulled out a chair for him.

“What a gentleman.” Cas smiled as he sat down.

“I know,” Dean said. “I’m a real charmer, ain’t I?”

“Less so when you comment on it.”

Dean sat across from him and winked. “You still like it.”

“We are going on five months now so I suppose I’m not diametrically opposed to it.”

“Oh yeah, talk nerdy to me, baby.” Dean raised his eyebrows lasciviously.

Cas shook his head but couldn’t hide his smile.

They ate sandwiches that Dean had prepared for them (turkey, lettuce, and tomato from Dean’s own garden) and played footsie under the table until it was time for the afternoon crowd. Cas smiled through that rush, too, even though he burned himself on a tray of snickerdoodles he had mistaken for the cooled sugar cookies.

“Dammit, Cas, you gotta be more careful,” Dean told him after Cas had finally admitted what had happened. They had just locked the front door after the last patron left when Dean had spotted the bandage Cas had wrapped around his thumb which had taken the brunt of the burn.

“It’s barely anything,” Cas said, taking his hand back from where Dean was examining it closely. “I hardly touched the tray.”

“It has a giant blister on it!” Dean accused.

“Well, then I guess hand jobs are off the table until it heals,” Cas deadpanned.

Dean gently took Cas’ hand back. “At least tell me you put some burn cream on it.”

“We have burn cream?” Cas asked, head tilted to the side.

“Do we have—“ Dean looked bemused. “Of course we have burn cream! It’s in the office in the first aid kit. What do you think I am, stupid? We work in a bakery, accidents happen.”

“Oh, so accidents do happen,” Cas said. “From the way you’ve been acting you’d think I was just incompetent.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“You first,” Cas replied.

“Alright, alright,” Dean said. “I know I can be overprotective, I just don’t like seeing you hurt.”

“It’s hardly anything,” Cas told him.

“I know, I’m being an idiot,” Dean said. “Sometimes it’s hard for me to shut it off.”

Cas gave him a sad little smile before leaning over to kiss him. “I get it,” Cas said, and he did. Dean had told him all about his unusual upbringing—how his bounty hunter father had dragged him and his brother all across the U.S. chasing felons and bail jumpers. How on more than a few occasions Dean was the sole caretaker of his younger brother for months at a time when his father deemed a situation too dangerous to bring them (and later when he sunk too deep into a drinking binge to bring himself back to his children). Now that Dean was out of the situation and had time to breathe for once, he noticed that it was the little things that set off his anxiety more and more.

“Thanks,” Dean said, gruff.

Cas just kissed him again.


	2. Chapter 2

Cas left. Cas always left.

“You could stay,” Dean said, watching as his boyfriend pulled a shirt on over his head, messing up his hair even more than their previous activities had. Dean himself was still lounging in bed, naked save for the navy sheets draped over his lap and legs. “You don’t have to rush off every night.”

Cas, who searching for his pants, replied, “I promised I’d be home by ten.” He ducked out of sight to look under the bed.

“You have a curfew?” Dean asked, trying really hard not to sound like he was judging his boyfriend.

“I don’t have a curfew, I have an overprotective older brother—oh god,” Cas looked over at Dean in mock horror. “Are you too much like my brother? Should I be in therapy?”

Dean rolled his eyes and threw a balled up sock he had found on his bedside table at Cas. “You shouldn’t be in therapy, you dork. You should be in bed. With me.” He hoped he didn’t sound desperate.

Cas bent down and picked up the sock Dean had thrown at him. He stared at it. “I would,” he finally said. “But I have to get home. I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow, though.” He sat on the edge of the bed to pull the sock on.

“Tomorrow is your late start,” Dean reminded him. “Charlie’s opening with me.”

“Okay, so not  _ bright _ and early. But still early by any other person’s terms.” He laid back down on the bed facing Dean. “Besides, I’ll probably come in a little early anyway to do some of the bookkeeping. Somehow I keep getting distracted during actual work hours.”

Dean rolled over on top of him. “Don’t worry, babe. I can distract you in your off hours, too.”

Cas didn’t end up leaving for another hour, but he still left.

\--

“Just tell him how you feel,” Charlie said, tying her long red hair up in a ponytail. “You guys have been dating for, what, five months now? Pretty sure you’re past the point of being too scared to ask your boyfriend a question.”

“Have you not been listening?” Dean asked. He began rolling out his cinnamon roll dough a little more forcefully than strictly necessary. “I’ve been trying to tell him. I flat out asked him last night. To stay. It’s like he deliberately misunderstands me.”

Charlie grabbed an apron and threw it on over her purple Star Wars shirt. “Then make it so obvious he can’t misunderstand you. I love the guy, but he is pretty oblivious sometimes. Maybe it’s not deliberate. Maybe you have to really spell it out for him, you know?”

“How is asking him to stay the night not obvious enough that I want him to stay the night?” Dean asked. “I mean, not to get too ahead of myself or anything, but I want, you know, a future with the guy.” He stopped rolling the dough. “What if this is his way of telling me that’s not what he wants? What if it’s his way of letting me down easy?”

“Okay, first of all,” Charlie said, shooing Dean away from the dough and taking the rolling pin from him to resume his work, “he is definitely looking for a future with you.”

“Did he tell you that?” Dean asked, hating how pathetic he sounded.

“No, but it’s like super obvious, come on. The dude acts like the sun shines out of your ass, you don’t act like that around a booty call. Maybe he snores and he’s embarrassed.” Charlie shrugged. Satisfied with the state of the dough, she put the rolling pin down and grabbed the brown sugar mixture Dean had already prepared and began spreading it liberally over the dough. “Maybe he drools and thinks you’ll be grossed out.”

“I don’t care about those things,” Dean said. “And I doubt Cas would either.”

“But have you actually talked to him about it?”

“Well, no, not really,” Dean admitted.

“Okay then you don’t actually know. You know who would be the perfect person to ask?” Charlie batted her lashes at him.

Dean rolled his eyes. “I can’t just go up to him and be like, ‘hey Cas, do you snore or do you secretly hate me?’ He’ll think I’m a loser.”

“Hate to break it to you, but—“

“Yeah, yeah, I’m already a loser. You’re real funny, Bradbury.”

Charlie grinned. “But in all honesty, you can just ask him if he snores. If you’re feeling really brave, you can even just come right out and say you want him to spend the night with you, drool and all.”

“Ugh,” Dean banged his head against the cabinet behind him. “Why am I even asking for your advice?”

“Because when you tried to ask Sam he just started laughing at you.” Charlie gave him a teasing smile.

“Why am I asking anyone? This is so pathetic. I’m so pathetic.” He continued to hit his head against the cabinet.

Charlie rolled her eyes and wiped her hands off on the towel she had hanging from the pocket of her apron. “You’re not pathetic, you’re in love.”

Dean choked. “I’m what now?” he squeaked.

“Oh, were you not aware?” Charlie asked innocently.

“I’m not—I mean—I can’t—he hasn’t even stayed the night, I can’t be that serious yet.” Dean crossed his arms and huffed.

“Okay, I take it back, you are pathetic,” Charlie told him.

“Nice. Kick me while I’m down,” Dean said. “I just…” He sighed. “I just don’t want to screw this up. Every other relationship I’ve had I’ve screwed up. And I—“ He shook his head. “Never mind. You good back here? I’m going to set up the display.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Charlie said grabbing his arm before he could get too far away. “You’re not going to screw this up, okay? He likes you, too. You just need to talk to him, alright? Tell him how you feel. Tell him everything.”

“But I can’t tell him everything,” Dean said miserably.

“Okay, tell him everything right up to the whole hunting thing.”

“This is never going to work,” Dean muttered.

“What’s never going to work?” a deep voice said and both Dean and Charlie spun around to see Cas pulling an apron over his head.

“Cas!” Dean and Charlie squeaked in unison.

“Isn’t this your morning off?” Charlie asked, pushing the hair that had whipped her in the face as she had spun behind an ear.

Cas shrugged. “I came in early to get a head start on the books. I haven’t gone over them in a couple of weeks.” He smoothed his apron down. “What’s never going to work?”

Dean’s mouth was hanging open so Charlie jumped in, “Dean is being dramatic about his recipes again.”

Cas sighed. “Dean, I’ve told you a thousand times that your ideas are good. You need to put yourself out there.”

“Yeah, Dean,” Charlie agreed with a smirk. “You need to put yourself out there.”

Dean glared at Charlie. “Finish the cinnamon rolls. I need to go set up the front.” And with that he turned and marched through the swinging doors to the front of his bakery. He realized too late that he had forgotten to bring the muffins with him, but he had stormed off, he couldn’t just go back and grab them. It would ruin the whole effect. Instead he pulled out the cash register and began counting, making sure he had enough small bills to get him through the morning rush.

“Dean?”

It was Cas. And he’d brought the muffins Dean had left behind. “Is everything okay?”

“Of course,” Dean said, refusing to look up from the bills in his hand.

There was silence as Cas began placing muffins strategically behind the glass counter and Dean continued to count the money. Dean had put one of his dad’s old Metallica tapes in his old boombox this morning, but he had turned it low to talk to Charlie; now the heavy metal barely floated through to the front where the two worked silently.

Dean had counted out thirty-two Ones three times when Cas broke the silence.

“Is it something I did?” he asked. “Are you mad at me?”

Dean dropped the money into the till and spun around. “Mad at you?”

“I’m trying to think of what I could have done. Was it because I didn’t—“

“I’m not mad at you!” Dean cut him off. “I’m just being stupid. Ignore me.”

Cas nodded and placed the last muffin behind the counter. Soon the muffins would be replaced with cookies and tarts and by the afternoon there would be pies under each of the clear cloches they had set up along the top of the counter.

“Is it because I keep pushing you to try your original recipes?” Cas asked, staring resolutely at the empty pan he was holding.

“No, Cas, of course not.” Dean walked over to him and stroked a hand over his stubble. “It’s nothing. I’m just being stupid.”

Cas looked into his eyes, searching for the lie, but Dean wasn’t worried. He was a good liar.

“You can tell me if something’s bothering you,” Cas said.

Apparently Dean wasn’t as good a liar as he thought.

“We have been fighting more than usual,” Cas continued. “Is this—is ‘us’ something you’re having second thoughts about?”

“No!” Dean shouted. He hadn’t meant to shout but the very idea of Cas and him breaking up had his heart pounding in his ears. “No way, man—no. No second thoughts about us.”

Cas peered into Dean’s eyes again, and this time Dean stared right back. He needed Cas to see the sincerity of it.

“We’ll talk, okay?” Dean said. “In the office, after the rush?”

“Is this a ‘we need to talk’ or is this just a talk?” Cas asked.

“Just a talk,” Dean said and he leaned forward and kissed Cas. He tasted like coffee. “We hadn’t done that yet, huh?”

Cas shook his head. “No, we hadn’t.”

Dean leaned forward and kissed him again, longer, with a little more passion behind it.

“Now go. Those books aren’t going to keep themselves.” Dean gave him one last, little peck before putting distance between them. “I need to go help Charlie with the croissants.”

Cas nodded. “Let me know when those are done. I skipped breakfast this morning.”

“I’ll bake ‘em quick as I can.”

\--

Dean saved Cas a chocolate croissant during the onslaught of the morning rush. He’d already eaten a plain croissant that morning for breakfast, but Dean knew the chocolate ones were his favorite.

He knocked on the door to the office before pushing it open and walking in. “You still poring over those things?”

Cas didn’t look up from the sea of invoices laid out in front of him. “Do you know how much money we spend on sugar in a month? It’s honestly a little ridiculous.”

“We run a bakery, Cas, we basically bake our own weight in sugar and butter on the daily.”

“Okay, yes. But,” Cas began searching for a single paper among all the invoices, “the amount of salt is slightly alarming.”

Dean cleared his throat and loudly plopped the plate with the warmed chocolate croissant on the papers directly in front of Cas who finally stopped his search and looked up with a smile.

“For me?” he asked.

Dean nodded. “Only the best for you, sweetheart.”

“You spoil me,” Cas told him, picking up the croissant and taking a deep whiff of the chocolatey goodness.

“After this morning I just wanted to make sure you knew where we stand.”

“On the floor, usually inside the bakery.” He leaned back in his chair and looked at Dean with what Dean had learned was Cas’ version of a shit eating grin, a look of almost perfectly stoic innocence, belied only by the hint of a smirk in the corner of his mouth. 

“Alright, smartass,” Dean said, walking around the desk to lean against it where he could be close to and face Cas. “But we’re good, right?”

Cas nodded and took a bite of his croissant. “Of course.”

Dean smiled, heart swelling at the sight. Most might be turned off by their significant other talking with their mouth full, but Dean was just happy he wouldn’t be the only one. “I mean, I guess we have been fighting a little more, but I dunno—I wasn’t really thinking of it as fighting. More like bickering. Kinda like an old married couple, you know?” Dean felt his cheeks heat and knew he was blushing bright red. He immediately cast his eyes down towards the floor, too nervous to look at Cas’ reaction to the thought of them being married.

“I felt the same,” Cas said. “I don’t mind fighting so much when it’s with you.”

Dean tried and failed to stop a huge smile spreading across his face. “Alright, alright. We’re getting into some dangerously sappy territory. I need to get back to work before I suddenly develop a taste for romcoms.” He pushed away from the desk and gave Cas’ shoulder a quick squeeze before walking away.

“You love romcoms,” Cas teased just as Dean reached the door.

Dean, who had been reaching toward the door knob, quickly pulled his hand away as if it had been burned. “Hey! That’s a secret you promised to keep!”

“And I am. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t get to tease you for it.” Cas smirked at him. “Besides, I like romcoms, too. It’s really not that big of a deal.”

“Still, you promised,” Dean told him.

Cas rolled his eyes. “Fine. Your lame secret is safe with me.”

“You’re lame,” Dean said.

Cas just gave him a look that clearly stated that they both knew Dean had it backwards.

\--

Later that night as they cuddled in bed (another secret that Cas was sworn to protect with his life), Dean kept replaying Charlie’s advice in his head. If Cas being here really meant that much to him, he should be able to talk to him about it, right?

“Hey, Cas?” Dean said, his voice still a little husky from their previous activities.

“Hmm?” Cas asked. He was running his fingers gently up and down Dean’s arm.

“Will—“ Dean cleared his throat. “Will you stay the night?”

Cas’ movements paused for a moment. “I can’t tonight.”

“Then tomorrow?” Dean shifted to roll over on his back to face Cas. “Or the day after if you can’t do that. Just…” Dean ran a hand through his already messy hair. “I think it’d be really nice waking up to you in the morning. I want to know what that’s like.”

Cas looked like he was a deer caught in headlights.

“If you’re that opposed to it, it’s fine. I mean, I guess it’s not that big of a deal. It’s just something I was thinking about.” He chanced another glance at Cas’ face which was still frozen in shock. “But would it really be so bad? Having me be the first person you see in the morning?”

Cas finally seemed to have come back to his senses. “I can’t.”

“If you don’t want to, it’s okay—“

“No, Dean, I do want to. I do want that—I just—I can’t.”

“Why not?” Dean didn’t mean to pout, but he just couldn’t help it.

“Because I can’t,” Cas said.

“That’s not an answer.”

Cas sighed and rubbed his forehead. “I’m not a normal sleeper,” he tried. “I—I have night terrors.”

Dean raised a brow. “So? I get those.”

“No, Dean, night  _ terrors _ , not nightmares. I can’t sleep in the same bed as anyone else. I—I thrash all night, kicking and clawing. I once gave Gabe a black eye when he tried waking me.”

Dean’s face fell.

“I’m sorry,” Cas said. “God, I’m sorry. I know I should have told you about this before, but I thought you’d think I was weird and—“

Dean cut him off with a kiss. “It’s not a big deal.”

Cas sighed. “But it is. I know you’ve been hinting at this for a while, I was just too scared—“

Dean kissed him again, but Cas barreled on.

“So I just kept pretending like I didn’t know, but I knew, and—God, Dean—I’m just so sorry—“

Dean kissed him one last time, longer, with a lot more finesse and just a hint of tongue. And this time when he pulled away he made sure to put a finger to Cas’ lips, but the dumbstruck expression on Cas’ face let Dean know it probably wasn’t necessary.

“Thank god,” Dean said. “I was starting to think I was losing my touch.” He smiled at Cas who was slowly regaining his wits. “I don’t care about any of that stuff, Cas.”

Cas just sighed. “But you do. Lying won’t make me or you feel any better about it.”

“It’s really okay, Cas,” Dean told him. “I know I was making it out to be this huge old thing, but it’s not. Promise.”

Cas just gave him a look that clearly stated he didn’t believe a word of what Dean was spouting.

Dean laughed and rolled his eyes. “Hey, I’m serious!” He lightly smacked Cas’ arm. “I think I was just building it up in my head because like—yeah, it would be nice—obviously it would be fantastic—but I think I was just more worried that you were brushing me off. I thought maybe it was something you didn’t want. Not with me anyway.”

“Dean,” Cas said, and his voice sounded stricken. Pretty much the opposite reaction Dean had been hoping for. “Dean, I am so, so sor—“

“If you apologize to me one more time, I’m going old school and giving you a purple nurple.”

Cas immediately pulled the covers up to his chin.

Dean grinned. “That’s what I thought.”

“But—“

Dean shook his head and made a sound like a game show buzzer after you’ve answered wrong. “Tonight is a night to be happy, Cas.”

“Why?” Cas asked. “We just shone light on a huge obstacle in our relationship.”

Dean just smiled even more widely than before. “Yeah, alright, boo-hoo. So we can’t sleep in the same bed.” He turned and winked at Cas. “But we both want to.”

Cas’ expression was nonplussed.

“But we both…” Dean tried repeating what he had just said, but trailed off at Cas’ continued blank stare. “Dammit, Cas, I was worried you wanted to break up with me—“

Cas scoffed, offended by the very thought.

“And now that I know you were just embarrassed of your night terrors, well, takes a load off, you know?”

Cas squinted his eyes. “But the problem remains.”

Dean just shrugged and settled back onto the bed as if he couldn’t be more at ease. “But  _ I’m _ not the problem. So this is just an inconvenience.”

There was silence for a moment, then, “Not to me.” Cas had sat up and was now staring morosely down at his lap where Dean’s blue sheets lay draped.

“Shit,” Dean said, eyes popping open where they had been closed while he basked in the knowledge that Cas still wanted him. “I didn’t even think—“ Dean sat up too, and laid his arm around Cas’ shoulders. “Night terrors can’t be much fun, huh?”

“They are most decidedly  _ not _ fun,” Cas replied, tucking his head into the juncture between Dean’s shoulder and neck. “They are exhausting and horrible and I—I  _ hate _ going to sleep. I hate it.” His voice broke on the word ‘hate’ and the rest of his sentence sounded like he was choked up, forcing the words past the lump in his throat.

Dean could relate. After everything went down with Azazel and his father, there were some nights that Dean didn’t get any sleep unless it was at the bottom of a bottle. Sure, it wasn’t restful, but it was dreamless.

He felt a drop of moisture trickle its way down his chest and looked down just in time to see another tear fall from the tip of Cas’ nose. Dean pulled Cas in tighter, turning slightly to wrap both his arms around him. “Shit, Cas. Shit. That’s terrible, that’s—is there, I mean, probably not—but is there—I  _ want  _ to—what can I do?”

Cas didn’t answer, probably because there wasn’t one to give.

Dean nuzzled his nose into Cas’ unruly hair and breathed him in. The scent of their previous activities was strong, but underneath Dean could still smell that indescribable flavor of Cas. Dean loved the smell of him, even though he could never quite put into words what exactly it was he was smelling. Sometimes there was a little whiff of honey mingling in his scent, but mostly it was less of a smell and more of a feeling. When Dean breathed Cas in it was like a thunderstorm, powerful and electric and wild, but somehow it just made Dean feel safe. All of that awesome, raw power and Dean was allowed to bask in it. It didn’t make sense to  _ smell _ like that, but Dean couldn’t think of any other way to describe it. And he’d tried, to the great hilarity of Sam and Charlie who were now banned from ever mentioning thunderstorms under penalty of death.

“Can I hold you until you fall asleep?” Cas murmured.

Dean, who had been absently stroking Cas’ back as he held him, still trying to translate lightning into a smell, paused and pulled away from Cas. “What?”

“Can I—I want to hold you while you fall asleep,” Cas said. “Is that okay?”

“It’s not very fair,” Dean replied.

“Oh.” Cas seemed to shrink in on himself. “Okay, I get it.”

“No, no, no!” Dean reached out and grabbed Cas’ arms. “I meant it wouldn’t be fair to you. I get to fall asleep in my super-hot boyfriend’s arms. What do you get?”

Cas tilted his head and squinted. “To hold you in my arms as you drift peacefully into slumber. I suspect you sleep well.”

Dean couldn’t help the laugh he let out at that. If only Cas knew what monsters his dreams could be marred with. “Probably better than you, at least.”

Cas gave him a small smile. “May I?”

“It’s still not exactly fair to you.” Dean didn’t know why he was fighting so much. This was something he wanted. Granted, he wanted the whole shebang, but he’d make do with half.

“It’s not fair to you, either, Dean,” Cas pointed out. “But why deny ourselves something we both want just because it’s not perfect?”

Dean surged forward to kiss Cas, finally for something he was happy Cas had said.


	3. Chapter 3

Blue.

It was all Castiel could see in any direction. Up was the cerulean limitlessness of the sky, below him was the almost turquoise depths of the sea, and all around him was the blending of the two at the horizon.

Cas stuck out like a sore thumb with his gigantic black wings beating on either side of him, keeping him afloat in the air, his bare feet just barely skimming the surface with his toes. He thought his adversary would be easy to spot in this monochrome landscape as well, but it seemed as if the thing had learned a couple new tricks when Cas wasn’t looking. The thing was a shapeshifter, easily sloughing off the skin of one nightmarish creature in favor of the next, but it had always been in reds, greys and beiges, giving it the horrific feel of a creature turned inside out. But now it was nowhere to be seen.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and he took off into the sky, shooting up as fast as his wings would carry him. He looked down just in time to see his adversary streak across the surface of the water, but he still couldn’t make out what form he had taken. Cas didn’t waste any time and raced after him. He kept his eyes glued to the small figure darting across the water’s surface, but he made sure to listen for any sounds out of the ordinary.

It was playing with him, that much was obvious. But his adversary was always playing with him, so it’s not like this was an unexpected turn of events. Usually Cas would stay back and save his energy until it was ready to give him a real fight, but not this time. Cas was done holding back.

He heard a faint whirring behind him and immediately pulled his wings in and dropped through the air, stopping just a foot above the placid water. Cas manifested his sword and swung it up just in time to stop a blow from his adversary’s own sword. It was the humanoid shape again, this close Cas could see it’s jaw hanging unhinged, pointed purple-red tongue licking over its jagged teeth.

Cas wanted to roll his eyes but didn’t bother wasting the energy. After about thirty years, creepy faces just weren’t scary anymore.

He shoved the adversary’s blade away with his own and spun it in his hand to prepare for his next attack but the next thing he knew, something was wrapped around his ankle, pulling him down into the freezing water.

His lungs immediately filled with water, the move was so sudden. He choked and spluttered until a thought gave him gills and the water passed right through them.

Cas looked down and saw a tentacle wrapped tightly around his ankle, dragging him into the murkier depths. He stabbed it with his sword but it merely caused the tentacle to wrap tighter around his ankle. Cas grunted in pain and stabbed it again, this time piercing through the other end of flesh, and used his sword to wrench it off of himself. He heard his adversary squeal and then the tentacle disappeared.

Cas’ ankle throbbed but he hardly noticed, too focused on trying to find where his adversary went. He tried swimming through the water, but his wings were too large and bulky to allow him the speed and agility he required. With a regretful sigh he took them away and replaced them with attributes more suited for the water: fins on his forearms, webbing between his fingers, and flippers instead of feet.

Fighting in the water wasn’t Castiel’s favorite. He always felt naked and vulnerable without his wings.

He kicked his feet and propelled himself down where the turquoise of the water turned murky and grey. He was tired of the constant hide and seek he had been forced to play, he just wanted to fight. The water got colder the deeper down Cas went. The blade he still held now felt like an ice cube in his webbed hands.

The visibility was decreasing with every kick of his flippered feet, but he had to keep going. It’s not like Castiel didn’t know he was swimming right into a trap, all of the signs were there, but he was confident he would be able to outmaneuver anything his adversary threw at him.

Of course, the second that thought crossed his mind, his wrists and ankles were grabbed and wrenched in four different directions. Castiel screamed, bubbles pouring from his mouth. It felt like he was being drawn and quartered.

“ _ Silly Castiel.” _

_“Silly Castiel.”_

_ “Fallen into my trap like good little prey.” _

_“Good little prey.”_

Cas cursed, sending another bubble to float up to the surface. He tried breaking free with sheer brute strength, but the tentacles just wrapped even more tightly around him. The pressure on his limbs was becoming unbearable; he was sure he was going to be ripped into pieces any minute and the constant hissing snicker of his adversary was not helping matters.

His sword dropped from his grip and he watched as it descended further into the inky blackness below. It was useless to him now anyway without the use of his hands.

He could feel the suckers on the tentacles pull at the fins on his arms as they wrapped more of themselves around him, creeping up his arms. He let out a cry as one of the suckers got stuck to the fin of his right arm and tore it almost completely off.

_ “You scream so pretty for me.” _

_“So pretty.”_

His shoulders felt like they were about to pop out of their sockets any second. He needed a weapon he could wield without the use of his hands.

And then it hit him.

Dean had dragged him to see X-Men Apocalypse when it had first come out, and though Cas had made Dean apologize for wasting his time (“Sure, it wasn’t the best, but it was entertaining, Cas, come on!”), it looked like Cas would soon have to thank his boyfriend for his questionable taste in movies.

In the blink of an eye, Cas grew his wings back, but this time he replaced the feathers with sharpened blades. He swung them out from his back, slicing through the tentacles restraining him. The pressure was gone immediately, though the grotesque, sinewy appendages still hung from him, stuck by the suckers. He didn’t bother removing them, spinning immediately to face his adversary who was halfway through transforming from a giant octopus, limbs writhing, into a monstrous shark with far too many teeth.

Cas flung his right wing forward, shooting off two of his sharpened, metal feathers. His adversary dodged one, but the second sliced open a gash on the top of its head. It let out a roar of pain and shot forward at Cas who fanned his other wing in front of himself, blades pointed outwards towards the creature. His adversary veered to the right, managing to miss getting hurt by an inch.

Cas flicked his wings again, sending more feathers slicing through the water. Two of them hit their mark, plunging into his adversary’s side. It let out another roar and spun around so fast Cas barely had time to lift his wings up to form a shield around himself.  His adversary ran head first into them, cracking quite a few of his metal feathers. Cas grunted and a bubble popped out of his mouth to make its way to the surface.

_ “Tired of playing.” _

_“Playing.”_

_ “Little Castiel is ready to fight.” _

_“Fight.”_

“You’re damn right,” Cas gritted out, bubbles floating up with it.

His adversary dropped its jaw open, revealing a mouth filled with nothing but jagged teeth.

The next thing Cas knew there was a searing pain in his right hip. He looked down and saw a smaller version of the massive shark in front of him clamped onto his hip. It seemed that the two tentacles hanging from his feet had joined together and half transformed into a shark’s head.

Cas manifested a new sword and stabbed the creature through one of its eyes and tore it from himself. His legs felt raw where the tentacles had been ripped off of them. He needed a break, he was expending too much energy. He needed to get back to the surface where he had the upper hand.

He shot off every last feather he had on his wings in the direction of the massive shark and furiously began swimming up towards the light. His hip throbbed painfully with each kick of his feet, but he ignored it. Blood flowed freely from the wound in his hip, leaving a cloudy trail of red behind, but he didn’t have the time or energy to check if his adversary was following it.

His head broke through the surface of the water just as something pierced his already injured hip. Cas cried out in pain and turned to see one of his own sharpened feathers sticking out of it, his adversary (back to his humanoid shape which he seemed to be favoring as of late) grinning  from beneath the surface of the water.

Cas kicked out at him with his left leg but missed as his adversary dodged it and then rose out of the water in front of him.

_ Finally _ , Cas thought.

“What can you find in the water that never gets wet?” Cas demanded, putting force behind his words.

His adversary froze, feet still sunk beneath the surface.

Cas let out a sigh and laid back in the water, floating as he caught his breath. The riddle wasn’t a hard one, especially in their setting, but it was the first one that popped into his head. Besides, he just needed a couple seconds rest to catch his breath and heal. He had rid himself of gills the moment he saw the surface looming, and now he had the time to nix the rest of his underwater attire.

“ _ Reflection.” _

_“Reflection.”_

“Fuck.” Cas rolled over onto his stomach to manifest his wings without getting them wet and then shot off into the sky. His hip still hurt something fierce, but he just didn’t have the energy to expend to heal it. He’d deal.

He shot up into the sky, his adversary close behind. 

Round two started now.

\--

Cas groaned as he came to. He let the soft beeping of the heart monitor wash over him, centering him in his conscious mind.

“How you doing, baby bro?”

The voice was familiar and soothing, but he was too exhausted to even attempt to think of who it belonged to, let alone answer their question.

“Cassie?” Then there was the softest of smacks on his cheek. “Cassie, I need you to answer me.”

Gabriel. That’s who it was. Cas was proud of himself for figuring out the mystery, or at least he would be as soon as his brain had the capacity to do anything other than hurt.

“Castiel, so help me, if you don’t answer you’re getting a wet willy.”

Cas forced one eye to crack open so that he could properly glare at his brother.

“There he is,” Gabriel said. “That is still you, right baby bro?”

Cas merely grunted again and went back to closing his eyes. He knew it was Gabe’s job to be his watcher and make sure he woke up as himself every morning, but did he have to do it in such a chipper manner? It grated on Castiel’s already frayed nerves. And although he knew two cups of coffee and twenty minutes for the caffeine to really kick in always worked as the perfect antidote, he just couldn’t bring himself to move.

“You’ve been going pretty hard in there lately,” Gabe said. “He getting stronger?”

Cas wanted to respond, but that would require thinking of words and making his mouth form them, and he just wasn’t up to that.

“Castiel,” Gabriel singsonged. “You better not be falling back asleep.”

The hand was back at his face, smacking harder this time.

Cas mustered all the energy he had to halfheartedly swat his brother’s hand away. “’m fine,” he managed to grunt.

“Great, then would you care to enlighten me as to why you’re trying to kill yourself?”

“Not,” he said.

“Really?” Gabe said, feigning extreme surprise. “Well, you could’ve fooled me. Running yourself ragged this past week.”

Cas grunted in response, whether he was confirming or denying Gabe’s statement was up for debate.

“I’m just saying,” Gabe continued, “you kill yourself like this, that thing escapes and then we all die.” He paused, but Cas didn’t reply. “Even that hubby of yours,  _ Dean _ .”

Finally Cas opened his eyes and set them in a glare towards his brother. “Leave Dean out of this.”

“Why?” Gabriel asked. “You die or let that thing take over and he’s dead. He’s a part of this Cassie, no matter how much you want to keep him away.”

“He is not a part of this, Gabriel.” Cas forced himself to sit up, immediately falling back down.

Gabriel jumped into caretaker mode, shoving a thermometer under Cas’ tongue and checking his heart rate on the monitor. He continued on in their conversation, however, like nothing had happened. “I know you go skimpy on the details with me, bro, but that thing in your head? Is in your head. It knows all the sappy shit you think about your boytoy. And if you don’t think it’s going to want to punish you for trapping it all these years? Then you’re stupider than dad.”

Cas knew that Gabriel was right, but it didn’t change Cas’ plans. He spit out his thermometer and ripped the electrodes off which earned him an eyeroll. “I know what I’m doing.” He swatted Gabe’s hands away again. He was  _ fine _ , he was just tired.

“Oh, you know what you’re doing?” Gabriel was bringing out the blood pressure cuff from under the bed. “Well, that’s a relief. At least you know you’re doing stupid shit. I’d be really worried if you were flying blind here.”

“Not stupid.”

Gabriel let out a loud, obnoxious laugh at that.

“Not,” Cas insisted.

Gabe grabbed his arm and put the cuff on it.

“Gabriel, I’m  _ fine _ .”

“No, Cassie, you’re not. I just can’t tell if you’ve actually lost your mind or just your will to live.”

Through sheer force of will Castiel propelled himself up onto his feet. He immediately fell over and Gabriel’s face when he leaned down to help him up was a mixture of smug self-satisfaction and genuine worry.

“Call your boy toy, baby bro, because you are not going into work today.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Cas insisted, though he did allow Gabriel to manhandle him back onto his bed and begin taking his blood pressure, not that the test would be accurate at that exact moment.

“I’m being ridiculous?” Gabriel exclaimed. “I will give you ten thousand dollars if you can stand for ten seconds right now.”

“Can I get a thousand dollars for each second I manage it?”

Gabriel reluctantly let out a laugh. “No, but if you stop arguing I will give you the remote to Netflix instead of forcing you to watch cooking shows. Not the competition ones, either.”

Castiel huffed and fell back on the bed. “Fine,” he relented, only because he knew Gabriel would be true to his word, and if Cas was being honest with himself he  _ couldn’t _ actually stand. “Just let me make sure someone can cover for me.”

“Dean’s a big boy, he can find someone to cover.”

“But—“

“If I know Dean even a little bit, I know he is going to take one look at the bags under your eyes and send you straight home to take a nap. Or worse, straight to his home where you might actually nap and that would be disastrous for all of us.”

Cas wanted to argue but he really was too tired to put up a fight. “Hand me my phone.”

The phone call rang out and Cas was greeted with Dean’s voice telling him to leave a message. He cursed and tried the bakery’s line instead, hoping the shrill ring would be loud enough to be heard over whatever Dean would have playing this morning as he baked.

“Dean’s Pie Place, how can I help you?” Dean’s voice came over the line warm and smooth. It sounded like Dean had decided on Metallica.

“Dean,” Cas said, his voice tired but happy.

“Cas!” There was a pause and the background music disappeared. “Babe, where are you? I was getting worried. You’re never late.”

Cas looked at the clock. Indeed, Dean was right, he should have been at work ten minutes ago. Gabriel must have switched his alarm off. Or worse, he had slept through it.

“I’m so sorry, Dean. I must have slept through my alarm.”

“That’s alright,” Dean said and Cas could hear the smile in his voice. “You on your way now?”

Cas sighed. “I feel terrible to burden you with this Dean, but I—I feel terrible. If—if it’s okay—if you don’t need me, do you think you could call up Charlie or Kevin and ask them to cover?”

“Dude, of course,” Dean said. “Are you okay? Do you need anything? I can afford to close the shop for a day.”

Cas smiled, warmed to his core. “I’m fine, or I will be fine after a day’s rest. But thank you. I appreciate the offer.”

“Well, it still stands,” Dean insisted. “You need anything, I’m there, okay?”

“Okay, thank you.”

“I gotta get back, timer’s going off on the muffins, but you rest up, alright? I want you feeling better asap.”

“I’ll try.” Cas fiddled with a stray thread on his blanket as he tried to fight his blush.

“Can I call you after work or do you think you’ll be asleep?”

“Call me,” Cas told him.

“I don’t want to disturb your peace or anything.”

“Call me,” Cas repeated.

“Okay,” Dean said and Cas could practically hear the blush in his voice. “Feel better.”

“Thank you.”

“Alright. Bye, babe.”

“Goodbye, Dean.”

Cas fiddled with his phone for a moment to avoid looking up at Gabriel who had enough grace to pretend like he wasn’t listening, but the smirk spreading across his face told Cas that it was quickly diminishing.

“Aw, he offer to come play nursemaid to his sick boyfriend?”

“Shut up, Gabriel.”

“Is he going to  _ call you _ later?”

Cas threw his pillow at Gabriel’s face.

\--

Cas was stuck with a day of Netflix binging, something he had recently grown to love. But it turns out the part he loved about it was Dean being by his side making comments or demanding that Cas pay attention to this specific part because it’s his favorite or getting a little  _ friendly _ during the boring parts. Now it was just Cas, alone, watching a show that was only mildly interesting while trying to fend off sleep. Gabriel had offered to stay up and bother him to make sure he wouldn’t fall asleep, but Cas turned him down. First off, Gabriel needed sleep too, and since he had Cas duty at night, he usually crashed from morning until late afternoon. And second, Gabriel was annoying just being Gabriel, when he actively tries to be annoying it’s literally unbearable. Castiel would literally rather let the world end. Or at least that’s what he told Gabe when Gabe had tried insisting on staying up.

So now Castiel was alone, eyes drooping and hugging a cup of coffee. He hated days like this. Days where his brain is so tired it convinces his muscles they should be sore.

He shifted his arm to grab the remote, and even that sent a twinge of pain. He let out a pitiful groan as he began searching for a new show to watch. He still had a whole hour before the bakery closed and then he would have Dean to distract him. Dean was very good at distracting him. Though with how tired and achy he was, it was going to have to be a distraction of the non-physical variety. He was ruminating on that fact when the doorbell rang.

Cas jumped and then furrowed his brow. He wasn’t expecting anyone and since this was the time of day Gabriel slept he was certain it wouldn’t be anyone calling for him. Perhaps Gabriel had forgotten to tell him he had ordered a package.

He groaned as he stood up and slowly made his way to the door. Whatever package was being delivered better be worth it. He felt his muscles pull with each step. His right hip ached particularly badly, probably from the massive blow the adversary had dealt him last night. He opened the door and his mouth dropped into a smile. “Dean.”

“Hey, Cas,” his boyfriend replied.

“What are you doing here?” Cas asked even though it was quite obvious.

Dean held up a bag in one hand and a box in the other. “Your favorite chocolate croissants and ingredients for soup. I assumed you and your brother wouldn’t have anything in your fridge.”

“I resent that,” Cas said, going to cross his arms and immediately regretting his decision based on the pull of his muscle. “There’s plenty in our fridge.”

“Any of it not in a takeout container?”

Cas huffed and pouted. “I don’t feel good, you can’t treat me this way.”

Dean laughed and gently nudged Cas aside as he walked past him into his house. “Come on, let me make you some soup. Are you feeling any better?”

Cas had to walk after Dean to respond. “I still feel terrible. But slightly less terrible than when I first woke up this morning.”

Dean threw a sympathetic look over his shoulder. “Well I’ll make you this soup and then get out of your hair so you can keep resting.”

“Wait, what?” Cas asked.

“What, did you not really think I brought stuff to make soup?” Dean laughed.

“No, it’s just—are you not staying?”

Dean paused at the door to the kitchen and turned around. “I don’t want to bug you.”

“It’s not bugging me,” Cas said. “And it’s not like I’m contagious, I’m just exhausted.”

“I just figured you’d probably want to sleep.” Dean shrugged.

“Stay?” Cas asked, a little too hopeful.

“You really don’t want to just sleep?” Dean asked skeptically.

Cas shook his head. “I really want to watch the next episode of Star Trek but you made me promise to wait for you.” He rolled his eyes a little. “Even though you’ve already seen them all.”

“I like watching you watch them,” Dean told him. “Go set it up while I get this started.”

“How long is it going to take?” Cas tried not to pout, but he wasn’t sure how successful he was.

“Jeez, how hungry are you?” Dean laughed.

“I’m not, I’m bored,” Cas practically growled. “Put all that stuff in the fridge and come keep me company.”

“You’re grumpy when you don’t feel good,” Dean said but he was smiling. “Fine, I’ll go put this stuff away and meet you on the USS Enterprise.”

Cas snorted. “I don’t understand how you can call Sam a nerd when you say stuff like that.”

“Hey!” Dean said, brandishing a finger in Cas’ direction. “Sam is a nerd. I’m awesome.”

“Whatever you say, Dean.”

Dean shot him a glare before spinning around and walking into the kitchen.

Cas took a left and walked back into the living room where the impressively large television (Dean’s mouth had actually dropped open the first time he’d seen it) showed Cas’ Netflix queue. It only took him a second to find Star Trek and get it set up. After that he made himself comfortable on the couch to wait for Dean who came strolling in a minute later with a plate in his hand.

“Now, I wasn’t going to heat this up because you called me a nerd, but I figured I should forgive you in light of the whole not feeling good thing.” Dean plopped down next to Cas on the plush grey couch and held out a plate with two chocolate croissants.

Cas smiled as he took one, warm to the touch. “Thank you,” Cas said as he unashamedly snuggled into Dean’s side. He couldn’t let himself get too comfortable. He was still exhausted and falling asleep before regaining his strength could potentially be catastrophic. But Dean was just so comfortable.

He became even more comfortable when he lifted his arm and let Cas burrow under it.

“Try not to get too many crumbs on me,” Dean told him as he took a bite of his own croissant.

“I literally just watched a crumb fall from your mouth onto your lap.”

“I got some in your hair, too,” Dean laughed as he looked down and swiped at Cas’ hair with his croissant free hand.

Cas rolled his eyes. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Dean flashed him a smirk and a wink. “Don’t I know it.”

“Shut up and push play,” Cas said, finally digging into his own croissant. He did get a few crumbs on Dean but he ignored them in favor of savoring the buttery chocolate explosion in his mouth.

Dean planted a kiss on Cas’ unruly mop of hair and did just that.

\--

One episode turned to two, which turned to three before Dean was laying kisses along Cas’ neck, hands beginning to wander. Cas was still tired but the pace was lazy and teasing and Cas wasn’t actually sure Dean planned on actually working him up. Either way Cas was very much enjoying the attention.

Until Gabriel walked in.

“ _ Please _ let me interrupt whatever was going on out here,” he said loudly by way of announcing his presence.

Dean’s hands sprung back to respectable placements above the waist. “Hey, what’s up pintsize?” Dean said. “Or, can you tell from way down there?”

“Oh, Dean-o. You wound me,” Gabe replied with a hand over his heart and mock look of hurt on his face. “And I’d absolutely love to come up with a witty retort that would tear you to shreds, but I have to talk to my brother.” He flashed Dean a shark-like grin.

Cas could feel Dean tense up behind him. “Uh, sure, yeah. I’ll go start dinner.” He managed to make his way out from behind Cas on the couch.

“Dinner?” Gabe was back to all smiles. “Will there be enough for three?”

“Sure,” Dean said at the same time Cas shouted. “No!”

Gabe and Dean both looked over at Cas with raised eyebrows. Cas rolled his eyes dramatically. “I mean, yes, sure, Gabriel please come and ruin my alone time with Dean.”

“Yeesh, you’ve had alone time all day. It’s time for some brotherly bonding, don’t you think?” When Cas’ only response was a glare, Gabe turned to Dean who held his hands up in surrender.

“I’m going to go make dinner, you two can figure out who’s eating it.” And with that he turned and left.

Both Cas and Gabriel waited for Dean to get out of earshot before starting in on each other in furious whispers.

“Leave, Gabriel.”

“My house, too, baby bro. And I want dinner.”

“Well I want a brother who isn’t annoying, but we don’t always get what we want. Now what did you want to talk to me about?”

Gabriel sighed and sat down on the coffee table in front of him. “Same old, same old, bro. We’re rehashing this conversation until I get the answer that I want.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you love to talk because you’ll be doing it forever. I’m not changing my mind.” Cas shifted to sit up on the couch, hoping that it would give him a little more authority than lying down would.

Gabriel rubbed a hand over his face. “Can you at least try and look at this from my perspective, Castiel? Just for like a half a second?”

“I’ve been looking at this from your perspective my whole life, Gabriel,” Cas told him, staring him straight in the eye. “I’ve just barely started looking at it from my own.”

Gabriel broke eye contact and looked down. “If I lose you, Cas…”

“You won’t,” Cas was quick to assure him. “I’m stronger than this thing. Maybe if you’d stop babying me you’d be able to see that.”

“I’m not babying you, Cas. I’m protecting you. Dad couldn’t take this thing on. It killed Michael, killed Luc—this thing killed our whole damn family but I’m supposed to trust that you can take this thing on alone?”

“Even if you don’t believe in me, what’s the alternative? I live with this thing in my head forever? Until I die? Until it manages to trick me and escape or take over? Those all sound like real swell plans.”

“You live or you die, Cas, those are your options! Excuse the fuck outta me for choosing your life.”

“But you’re not!” Cas said furiously. “Because those options aren’t life or death, they’re stagnation or death and I’m done stagnating.”

“So what? You’re ready to die then, Cas?”

“No,” Cas said. “I’m adding a third option.” He crossed his arms and leaned back. “Winning. This thing has been a leech on me for too long. I’m taking my fucking life back, Gabriel. So you can help me, or you can leave.”

“And what’s going to happen to you then, Cas? I leave and something goes wrong in your dream? What are you going to do?”

Cas opened his mouth to retort, paused, then came to a decision. “Wouldn’t be the first time you ran away. I would deal with it exactly like I did last time.”

Gabriel looked like Castiel had slapped him.

“Go on. Leave! See what I care.”

Gabriel was shaking as he stood. “Fuck you, Cas.”

Cas watched as Gabe marched out of the room, kept watching the empty doorway until he heard the front door slam and then he sighed. He’d let himself feel guilty about that later.

“Is everything okay?” Dean’s voice drifted in.

Cas startled and then turned to see Dean standing in the doorway to the kitchen with a dishtowel slung over a shoulder.

“How much of that did you hear?” Cas asked.

“Tail end,” Dean said. “You telling him to fuck off.”

Cas cast his eyes down but was relieved Dean hadn’t heard the content of the argument.

“I hope this wasn’t about dinner, because really Cas, there’s enough for all of us. I made way too much.”

Cas snorted. “No, it wasn’t about dinner.”

Dean nodded. “Wanna talk about it?”

“No,” Cas said. He rubbed a hand over his face, the stubble under his fingers particularly scratchy since he hadn’t shaved that morning. Then, “Yes. Maybe. I don’t know.”

“Wow, babe,” Dean said. “I think that’s literally every answer you could have given me. Kudos for clearing that up.”

Cas glared at him so Dean walked over and sat down next to him.

“Whatever you want to say, or not say. I’m all ears.”

“What about dinner?”

“It’s gotta cook. Give it about thirty minutes.” Dean reached along the back of the couch to touch his fingertips to Cas’ shoulder. “Now you wanna tell me what made you yell at Gabe or should I go back in the kitchen and make myself busy?”

“Can’t we just watch the next episode of Star Trek?” Cas asked in a small voice.

Dean slid his hands along Cas’ shoulders to pull him into a one armed hug. “’Course, Cas.” He kissed Cas’ temple. “You still got that remote?”

\--

Cas was ashamed to admit that he had been close to dozing when Gabriel startled both him and Dean awake late that night by slamming the door.

Cas shot upright, but Dean just smiled sleepily and blinked at him.

“Were you sleeping, babe?” Dean asked, and his voice was rough with sleep, but he sounded hopeful.

Cas shook his head, but he was smiling. “No, but that was pretty much the most relaxed I’ve ever been. I feel really rested.”

Dean reached a hand up and cupped Cas’ cheek. “Good.” He rubbed his thumb along Cas’ stubble for a moment or two, always more affectionate when he was tired. He withdrew his hand and said, “I guess I better get going.”

Cas sighed, good mood immediately evaporated, but he nodded. “I suppose that would be wise.”

The two of them stared at each other while Kirk and Spock had a moment behind them on screen.

“Fuck, this part is hard,” Dean said. “Why didn’t you ever tell me leaving was this hard?”

“Because I didn’t want to make you even sadder,” Cas said. “Didn’t want you to try and convince me a little harder to stay.”

“Would it have worked?” Dean asked. He was propped up on his elbows, hair sleep mussed, and his right cheek still pink from where it had been pressed against the pillow. The sight of him took Cas’ breath away.

“I don’t know,” Cas replied honestly.

Dean surged up and kissed Cas, hands coming around to the back of his head to keep him there. “Stay, Cas,” Dean whispered into his mouth as he kissed him again. “Or let me stay, whatever. Just,” another kiss, “I don’t care about your night terrors, Cas, I don’t.”

Cas pulled away, gasping and a little lightheaded. He couldn’t let Dean distract him. He couldn’t let Gabriel be right about this. “I can’t.”

“Please, Cas?” Dean asked, begged.

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Cas said. “I’m sorry. I had a moment of weakness before.”

“Even though I don’t care if I get punched?” Dean asked.

“I’m sorry.” Cas cast his eyes down. He couldn’t bear to look at Dean right now. 

Dean sighed. “Alright. Give me a minute to wake up.”

Cas felt wretched, kicking Dean out of his home like this when he was so tired. He wished he could at least offer Dean his couch for the night, but he could already hear Gabriel nixing the plan due to any danger. It’s why he usually insisted on spending time at Dean’s. Well, that and Dean lived alone.

“I am sorry, Dean,” Cas said again.

Dean shook his head. “Nothing to be sorry for, Cas. S’not your fault.”

Cas snorted.

“It’s not,” Dean told him, rolling his eyes and finally pushing himself to his feet.

Cas nodded. He wished he could believe Dean, but it just wasn’t true.  “Thank you, for today.”

Dean bent down and kissed him. “Any time, babe.”

Cas grabbed Dean’s hands and used them as leverage to pull himself to his feet. “I’ll walk you out.”

Dean grabbed his keys and wallet from the coffee table and let Cas lead him out the door and to his car. Dean leaned up against his baby and crossed his arms. “I feel so stupid,” he said.

Cas furrowed his brow and cocked his head to the side. “Why?”

“I feel like I’m in high school again or something. It is stupid how much I miss you even when I only just saw you.”

Cas blushed furiously, biting his lip to keep his smile from growing too big. “I was homeschooled, but I get what you mean.”

“I forgot you and your brainiac brother were too gifted for normal school.”

Castiel snorted. He wished he could tell Dean that he was right, if by gifted he meant too psychically powerful for a normal school to make any sort of sense.

“Had to have tutors flown in,” he continued loftily.

“Shut up,” Cas said, punching him in the arm

Dean laughed. “Sorry, sorry. But hey, I like that you’re too smart for me.”

“I’m not too smart for you, Dean,” Cas said with a roll of his eyes.

Dean shrugged and brushed it off. “I’ll come over again tomorrow?” he asked.

“We could go to your place after work,” Cas said. “I like it more. Less Gabriel.”

“Wait, you’re not coming into work tomorrow,” Dean said. “Charlie’s covering.”

“Why?” Cas asked. “I’ll be perfectly fine to go to work tomorrow, Dean. I’ve had a full day’s rest.”

But Dean just shook his head. “Nope, babe, you need to take it easy for a while, okay?”

Cas shook his head. “No, I cannot do another day like this. I was so bored, Dean.”

Dean narrowed his eyes. “Fine, but I better not catch you anywhere near the bakery before the afternoon shift. Got it?”

Cas gave him a mock salute. “You’re the boss.”

Dean nodded. “Good. Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Dean.”

“’Night, Cas.”

They stole one more kiss under the glow of the streetlight before finally parting ways. 

\--

Gabriel was waiting just inside the door when Cas came back inside. “Please tell me you weren’t almost asleep on the couch when I got home.”

“I wasn’t almost asleep on the couch when you got home,” Cas replied smoothly. “I wasn’t even expecting you home.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Cas,” Gabe said, sweeping past him and heading up the stairs.

“I’m not. I didn’t expect you to come home.”

Gabriel paused and tensed halfway up the stairs, but the moment soon passed and he kept on going.

Cas wondered if he had gone too far. He knew Gabriel beat himself up over leaving Cas, and Cas didn’t blame him for what happened. But sometimes it was easier to lash out at Gabriel than face the situation.

He eventually followed Gabriel up the stairs and to his room.

“I’m sorry, Gabriel,” he said to his brother’s back. “I just really wish that you’d have my back on this. I can’t live like this, but I’m not planning on just throwing my life away. I’m ready for this. You just need to trust me.”

Gabriel spun around. “You’ve been going hard in there all week and you haven’t beat him yet, Cas. How exhausted are you really going to let him make you before you realize this is what he wants!”

“I feel perfectly fine. I rested all day.”

Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose. “I can’t do this with you anymore,” he said. “All we do is yell the same thing over and over. We’re obviously getting nowhere and since I can’t exactly stop you from doing whatever the hell you want, no matter how absolutely, ridiculously  _ stupid it is _ , I guess I’m just going to be stuck as the loser. Congratulations.”

“It’s my life, Gabriel, not an argument to be won.” Cas’ hands balled into fists at his sides.

“The fact that it’s your  _ life _ is exactly why I’m not on your side on this. But if you can’t see that, then…” Gabe threw his hands up.

“Yes.  _ My  _ life, Gabriel. I’m tired of letting the adversary rule it. I’m sorry that you can’t understand that, but I have to start living for me.”

“You can’t live if you’re dead, but you know, just one man’s opinion.”

Castiel shook his head and sat down on his bed. “You’re right, we’re never going to come to an agreement on this.”

Gabriel nodded tersely. “Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

“I promise,” Cas told him.

“Then let’s get on with it.” Gabriel made a sweeping motion to encompass Cas’ whole nightly routine.

As Gabriel stuck the last electrode to Castiel’s forehead that night, Cas spoke. “I didn’t mean what I said before. I knew it would hurt the most, and I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”

Gabriel was silent for a moment. “Thanks, kiddo.” He sounded tired.

“You are a really good brother, Gabriel. Despite how annoying you are. And I do appreciate you.”

“I’m liking this whole apology, compliment mode you got going on here, but this kinda sounds like a deathbed farewell so I’m gonna have to ask you to stop.”

“I’m not saying goodbye, you asshole, I’m just trying to apologize for being a dick earlier. My apologies, next time I’ll just belch ‘I’m sorry’ in pig latin.”

“Well, that’s just creative  _ and _ thoughtful,” Gabriel said. “I would most definitely accept any apology in burps.”

Cas rolled his eyes. “Goodnight, Gabriel.”

“Sweet dreams, Cassie.”

Cas would have rolled his eyes again but they were already closed. “That’s never been funny.”

“It’s not supposed to be.”


	4. Chapter 4

“This is a stupid idea, Dean.”

Dean sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with the hand that wasn’t holding his cell phone to his ear. “I know.”

“Don’t go through with it,” Sam said for probably the twentieth time.

“But—“

“Where’d you even get it? I thought you ‘lost’ all your old contacts.”

“I didn’t lose my contacts,” Dean huffed, “I told them to lose me.”

There was silence over the phone and Dean could tell Sam was pacing. He was seriously starting to wish he had never told Sam his plan.

“It’ll be okay. I just have to get him to take control of his dream.”

“Dean, you said he has night terrors. I don’t even think those happen during the same sleep cycle as normal dreams, it might not even work. Or it might go horribly wrong. Please. Don’t do this.”

All of Sam’s points were solid, and they were all concerns he himself had, but seeing Cas earlier, how sick he looked from the exhaustion, had pushed all his reservations aside.

“You sound like Charlie,” Dean said.

“She’s a smart woman. You should listen to her.”

“She also said I was being really romantic and sweet,” Dean answered with a smirk.

“She’s an idiot, you should never listen to her,” Sam said without missing a beat.

Dean laughed.

“Really, though, Dean. This sounds dangerous, I don’t like it.”

“I get that,” Dean said, “I do.”

“You die in the dream you die in real life, Dean. Did you forget that little factoid?”

“Who the hell says ‘factoid?’” 

“Don’t deflect, Dean,” Sam snapped.

“Okay, yes, Sam. I know the parameters. I’m not some rookie in the field for the first time. Literally; been there, done that.”

“Dean, we both almost died last time we dream jumped.”

“But we didn’t,” Dean pointed out. “And this one is different because no one is trying to kill us.”

“You literally do not know that,” Sam said and Dean could practically see him pinching the bridge of his nose as he probably lamented having Dean as a brother. 

“Okay, well, there’s no outside force trying to kill us. Just good old fashioned nightmare type stuff. As soon as I get to him I’ll be able to help him take control of the dream just like Bobby did.”

“I’m coming over,” Sam said and Dean suddenly heard a lot of movement on the other side of the phone.

“Don’t come over,” Dean told him, rolling his eyes.

“No, I’m coming over. I have to make sure you don’t do something stupid.”

“Sam, you’re an hour and a half away.”

There was a pause, then, “Fine, I’m sending Charlie over.”

“Don’t you dare,” Dean said. “She’s got opening shift tomorrow.”

“Except the bakery won’t open if you’re dead, so I think she’ll be happy to lose a few hours sleep.”

Dean sighed. “Ugh, fine. Look, if I promise not to do anything tonight, will you call off the hounds?”

“I don’t know, can I trust you?” Sam asked.

“I won’t do anything tonight, alright?” Dean said. “You can call and berate me tomorrow.”

“And what’s the difference between tonight and tomorrow, Dean?”

“Maybe a good night’s sleep will screw my head back on straight,” Dean said. “Who knows?”

“You swear, Dean? Swear you won’t do anything stupid tonight?”

“I swear I’m not stupid, Sam, okay?” The phone was starting to get uncomfortably warm against Dean’s cheek. This conversation had been going on way too long. Dean had called him when he had returned home from Cas’. Late by his standards as a baker, but nowhere near late for his night owl brother. Perhaps he had been hoping Sam would talk him out of his venture.

“Okay, good,” Sam said. “There’s a different solution to this problem, Dean.”

Dean was silent, thinking back to all the solutions he had suggested to Cas who had just given him a sad little smile in return that clearly stated, “Dean, you idiot, of course I’ve tried all of these things.” Since then Dean had decided to start looking into the more supernatural side of remedies that he was sure Cas had yet to try. Instead of saying any of that, Dean just said, “Yeah, I know.”

“We’ll find it, okay?” Sam said. “I know it’s not a hunt, but we can still research it like one.”

“Thanks, Sam,” Dean said.

There was a pregnant pause before Sam broke it.

“You really like this guy, huh?” It was only slightly teasing.

Dean blushed furiously in the privacy of his own kitchen. “Duh, dude.”

“Good,” Sam said. “I’m happy for you. Seriously.”

“Thanks, Samantha.”

He could practically hear Sam rolling his eyes to the heavens and back. “Is being happy really that big of an affront to your manliness?”

“Uh, honestly?” Dean asked. “Kinda.”

“That’s possibly the most pathetic thing I’ve ever heard.”

“It’s possibly the most pathetic thing I’ve ever admitted.”

Sam chuckled and then yawned. “I gotta get to sleep,” Sam said. “You promise you’re not going to do anything stupid tonight?”

“I already promised, jeez. Want me to reach my fuckin’ pinky through the phone?”

“No, I just know you and want you to be safe.”

“I will be, alright? Stop your worrying.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Later, Sammy.” Dean finally pulled the phone away from his ear and threw it on the counter he had been leaning up against. It was stupid, what Dean wanted to do. Reckless, dangerous, and  _ stupid _ . Dean picked up the mug filled with the already brewed African Dream Root. Cas practically lived at Dean’s during the day so his DNA hadn’t been hard to come by. Dean had only promised that he wasn’t stupid. And he wasn’t. Dean knew this was a stupid decision, but he wasn’t doing it because he was reckless. He was doing it because every time he thought about Cas he pictured those bags under his eyes, the look of fear and utter exhaustion that passes over his face every time sleep is mentioned. It was stupid, it was reckless, but it could work. And that was all that Dean needed.

He crossed his apartment in quick strides and sat down on the edge of his bed. He had already asked Charlie and Kevin to cover for him and Cas on tomorrow’s morning shift so he was covered on the work end. And both of them were happy to do it, thinking Dean was finally allowing himself a small break.

Dean debated letting Sam’s words of worry and caution sway him from his decision for only a moment. Perhaps he was being too cocky, but he felt pretty confident in his plan, stupidly dangerous as it was. The only real danger came if Cas was dreaming about something too dangerous to survive, but when Cas had described snippets of the night terrors that he remembered, none of them had seemed overtly dangerous. No more than the average hunt, anyway.

So Dean wasn’t stupid, he was keeping his promise. He was just making one tiny, possibly stupid decision.

So Sam couldn’t get mad when Dean told him all about how his plan worked when they talked tomorrow.

Dean took a deep breath, then brought the mug to his lips.

\--

Dean blinked and he was on top of a rocky outcropping overlooking a mountainous valley in shades of grey and green, a pale blue sky topping the scene. “Holy shit!” he couldn’t help but to exclaim. Heights weren’t his favorite thing in the world. Then he felt a strong grip on his right arm and heard an urgent, “Dean!”

Dean spun around and the sight behind him was nothing compared to what he was seeing now. Cas stood there, the hard lines of his face set with worry, wearing the same dark blue suit, tie askew, and oversized trench he had worn the first day he had walked into the bakery and into Dean’s life. But it had to be the massive iridescent black wings protruding from Cas’ back that really took Dean’s breath away.

“Holy  _ shit _ !” Dean exclaimed again.

“Dean, what are you doing here?” Cas looked furious.

“You have  _ wings _ !” Dean shouted, as if Cas didn’t already know. “Dude!”

“Dean, focus!” Cas actually grabbed Dean’s chin between his thumb and forefinger and forced Dean’s eyes to meet his own. “How did you get in here?”

“You’re dreaming, Cas,” Dean said.

“Thank you, yes, I am aware,” Cas replied quickly, in clipped tones. “How did you get in here? No—you know what? That can wait, how do I get you out of here?”

“Wait, how do you know this is a dream?” Dean asked.

Cas’ eyes kept darting over Dean’s shoulder, constantly scanning the horizon, but at Dean’s words, he put his eyes on Dean. “We don’t have time for this, answer the fucking question, Dean! How do I get you out of here?”

“Okay, I’m not following,” Dean said. “How the hell do you know this is a dream and that I’m really here?”

But Cas was no longer paying attention to him. He had narrowed his eyes and set his jaw at something he saw over Dean’s shoulder. “Get behind me,” he said, pulling Dean behind a wing and shielding him.

Dean was hit with a face full of iridescent feathers, oddly silky even though they were more rigid than he had been expecting. Then all of a sudden Cas was crashing into him, sending him flying back into the rocky wall behind him, the jagged edges cutting into the skin on the back of his arms.

“Shit, Dean, it’s not safe for you here—hang on—“ Cas’ hand was on his shoulder again, this time pushing Dean.

Dean stumbled and when he regained his footing it wasn’t in the same place he had just been. Where before there had been large open spaces and pastel colors, Dean now found himself in what looked like a museum and library combo in earthy browns and greens. The weirdest part, and the part that had a deep red climbing up his cheeks, was that it seemed this place was dedicated to _him_. Every way he looked he saw his own face staring back at him, all of the placards on the rows upon rows of books all had his name engraved on them, followed by dates or activities.

Where the hell was he? This couldn’t be Cas’ night terror, could it? No, of course not. That place before had been the night terror, beautiful as it was, something had attacked Cas. And that was the most interesting part: how had Cas known he was the real deal? He hadn’t hesitated a moment before calling Dean out. Dean was beginning to suspect that there was more to that boyfriend of his than Cas had let on.

Dean had just started wandering down one of the aisles of books, becoming a little too uncomfortable having so many replicas of himself staring down at him, when Cas appeared in front of him, same rumpled outfit as before, this time with his wings tucked neatly behind his back.

“I don’t have much time,” Cas said, striding towards Dean urgently. “Dean, how did you get in here? How can I get you out?”

“What are you, Cas?” Dean asked. “I mean, how can you do all of…” He swept his hand around. “… this? Like, where am I? And how did you know I’m actually me and not just part of your dream?”

“I’m an extremely powerful psychic, Dean. And I wasn’t exactly lying when I said I’m not a normal sleeper. I did lie about being afflicted with night terrors, that was just an easy excuse—“ Cas paused and got a faraway look to his eyes for a moment before snapping back. “I’ll explain later, I’m running out of time. I’ve got him trapped in a riddle for now but he’ll be out any second.”

“Got who trapped?” Dean asked, but he was once again ignored by Cas.

“How do we get you out of here? Can you just pinch yourself awake? Please tell me you can just pinch yourself awake,” Cas said, and actually clasped his hands together as if in prayer.

“I’ll wake up when you wake up,” Dean told him. “And hey, what’s going on? Who’ve you got trapped?”

“I don’t have time to explain now, Dean. I promise you that I will, and you’ll have some explaining to do yourself, but for now just…” Cas looked around and pink tinged his cheeks. “Stay here. You’ll be safe here.” He turned to leave and then paused. “Please don’t look around too much.”

“Wait, Cas, I can help!” Dean said but Cas was already gone. What the  _ hell _ . Cas was psychic? And he sent Dean… somewhere. Somewhere Cas didn’t want Dean snooping, so Dean thought that maybe this wasn’t just an extension of Cas’ dream but something else.

Dean picked a book up off of the shelf, it was large and leather-bound, gold filigree twisting into beautiful and intricate patterns on the cover. The spine told him it was titled First Date. It must mean  _ their _ first date, although Cas had admitted that it was also his first ever date. Before he had chalked it up to homeschooled kids not getting out much, especially independently wealthy ones, but now he suspected it had something to do with whatever was going on in Cas’ dream. Information he was not yet privy to.

He weighed the book in his hand; it was heavy. That coupled with the beauty of the cover really impressed upon Dean the importance placed on this book.

He knew Cas had asked him not to snoop, but could this really be considered snooping? He had been on their first date, too.

He let the book fall open in his hands and was immediately transported to the lake where they had their first date. He was immediately hit with a sense of major anxiety mixed in with utter excitement. The lake looked beautiful, the sunset reflecting off of the rippled surface, the light breeze making it the perfect day to enjoy the weather.

Dean turned around and was startled to find himself standing there, holding a basket in one hand and a picnic blanket in the other. Cas stood beside him, and it was the weirdest sensation, because Dean remembered what he felt in that moment, nerves, worry that he was going to screw this up, the hope that Cas could possibly like him back, embarrassment over his choice of venue for their first date, wondering if it was too cheesy but just wanting to make sure Cas knew that he was important.

But watching the Dean and Cas before him, he didn’t feel any of those things. Well, he still felt anxious, but he could tell it wasn’t his own. This anxiety sat uncomfortably in his gut rather than make his heart race. And the other emotions baffled him. Frustration? At Dean refusing Cas’ offer to help carry something? Dean shook his head in disbelief, he had just been trying to be a gentleman! He was so bringing this up the next time Dean did something nice for Cas.

But then he felt all the frustration vanish and get replaced with a warmth that suffused his whole being. The Dean in front of him had tried to spread the blanket out on the ground between them just as a breeze kicked up, causing the blanket to fly up over his head so he ended up looking like a white and red gingham ghost. Dean remembered feeling nothing but absolute mortification in that moment, but all he was feeling now was a deep sense of endearment and another emotion that Cas hadn’t put a name to but it was one Dean definitely recognized from feeling it himself.

“Do you need help with that?” the Cas in front of him asked, and Dean watched how he smiled with his entire face, eyes crinkling, mouth wide in unrestrained joy. Dean hadn’t seen that part the first time around, being under a blanket and all.

“Yeah,” Dean’s voice was muffled from under the blanket. “You could shoot me immediately so I never have to deal with what just happened.”

Cas laughed and the Dean from now couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled up through his throat as well. Apparently, whatever Cas felt, Dean feels.

Cas helped Dean pull the blanket off his head, leaving Dean’s hair horribly ruffled. Dean’s cheeks and ears were bright red with embarrassment, but Cas just leaned forward and laid a gentle kiss right on Dean’s lips. “Here, I’ll help you,” Cas murmured, and Dean felt nervous as Cas said it, worried he’d moved too fast, been too forward. Dean would have laughed if his own emotions were allowed precedence. The only thing he remembered from that first kiss and Cas right afterwards was feeling like his heart was expanding so fast in his chest that it actually  _ hurt _ . He’d had a moment of panic that he was having a heart attack before he realized he had just never been this happy before. He’d never felt  _ this much _ at once. That gentle press of lips had been the best moment of Dean’s life. And Cas had been  _ worried _ ? 

Cas took one end of the blanket and began backing away from Dean, stretching the red and white checkered cloth between them before carefully laying it on the ground.

“Thanks,” Dean said, voice husky.

Cas smiled, feeling shy and nervous. Dean wished he could have told him that there was no need, Dean had been smitten since moment one.

Dean closed the book in his hands and at once the scene before him dissolved back into Cas’ little mind shrine for him. He put the book back on the shelf in the empty spot waiting for it. As much as he loved witnessing their first date from Cas’ perspective, feeling someone else’s feelings while  _ knowing _ what his own should be was just too disconcerting. He wandered out of the aisle of books, lest he be tempted by another one of their firsts.

He looked around and was once again greeted by his own smiling face staring down at him from almost every angle. He eventually wandered over to a corner where a giant white board was placed, half of it covered in a loopy handwriting that belonged to Cas. The top of the board read ‘Speculation’ and Dean could see the board adding and removing words as he watched. The part that really drew his eye, though, was the word ‘HUNTER’ in all caps, circled with two question marks after it.

So it seemed that Cas had figured out his true identity, or at least suspected. Dean couldn’t tell if he was more worried or relieved by the fact. He quickly scanned the board to see if there was any sort of emotion attached to Cas’ speculations, but it seemed he kept his feelings on his speculations separate. The only thing he found on the board were bullet points that lead to theories, and it wasn’t just about him being a hunter, either. It seemed that any question that Cas didn’t have a definitive answer for was on this board, down to ‘Dean’s Favorite Pie Flavor’ with various flavors listed beneath it with tally marks next to each one. It looked like apple and blueberry were in a tie for the lead. He couldn’t believe that Cas actually paid this much attention to him. That he cared enough to even have these questions in the first place.

He was trying not to put too much stock in it, but the pervasive feeling he got being in this place was overwhelming…  _ love _ . At least, it felt the exact same way that Dean felt every time he thought about Cas. By now he had learned to apply the word love to that feeling, even though the thought terrified him. Having the feeling reflected in Cas both calmed and excited his nerves.

Dean tore his eyes away from the speculation board and upon turning found an aisle labeled ‘Fantasies’. Dean’s mouth went dry. He shouldn’t. This would be a  _ terrible _ violation of privacy, right? These were Cas’ own personal fantasies, and if he didn’t want to share them with Dean, then Dean shouldn’t have any right to them.

On the other hand, how amazing would it be if Dean could make one of Cas’ fantasies come true for him? Besides, the two of them had just started venturing out from the vanilla side of their lovemaking and Dean had a suspicion that Cas, like him, wanted to expand those ventures. He grabbed a book at random, none of these having any wording on their spines. The cover was beautiful, the same leather-bound and gold filigree style, but this book was lighter. Practically floated in his hands instead of weighing them down.

He opened the book and once again found the world shifting around him. When it stopped Dean found himself standing in his own kitchen, greeted by the scent of pancakes and the sound of Cas moaning.

“Oh, Dean,” came his deep voice, and Dean shamefacedly spun around to see just how kinky his boyfriend could get.

“Oh,” Dean said at the sight that met his eyes. There was absolutely nothing kinky going on. Cas was merely eating pancakes as the Dean of the daydream beamed at him and sipped at some coffee.

“This is your best recipe yet, for sure,” Cas said, his mouth still full. Dean’s mouth suddenly got flooded with a burst of flavor so exquisite Dean himself groaned his appreciation. It was an absolutely delightful mixture of brown sugar, rum, and butter. And with the added crunch of the chopped candied pecans, it was definitely the most delicious pancake Dean had ever tasted.

Dean had a hard time believing that a spectacular pancake would really relegate itself to a book in the section dedicated to Cas’ fantasies. And then Dean saw the glint of Cas’ ring in the early morning sunlight streaming in through his window. Castiel was wearing Dean’s mom’s old wedding ring on his left ring finger.

Dean gasped and searched out his own hand and found a matching silver band adorning his own finger.

“How’d you sleep last night, sweetheart?” the Dean of the fantasy asked, raising his coffee mug to his lips for another sip.

Cas smiled through his next bite. “Wonderfully,” Cas replied. “But you would know, you were there.”

Dean watched as his doppelganger beamed at Cas before realizing the two of them were playing footsie under the kitchen table. It was one of the most domestic scenes Dean had ever witnessed. And he ached for it to be real. The feeling was reflected by Cas, Dean could feel it hanging in the air around him.

He couldn’t get over that  _ this _ was Cas’ fantasy, this tooth-rottingly sweet scene of domesticity was Cas’ fantasy.

He wondered if Cas would say yes if he proposed or if that would be moving too fast, if it was a fantasy for the far future. Dean wondered if he was actually considering proposing to Cas.

Dean slammed the book in his hand closed and haphazardly shoved it back onto the shelf. It had only been five months. Thinking about marriage had to be crazy at this point.

He stared at the offending book sitting innocently on the shelf. He’d be lying if he said he’d never fantasized about the same thing, but the thought of moving too fast still made him panicky.

Against his better judgment, he reached out for the book again but just as his fingers brushed the spine, the world dissolved around him and he blinked his eyes awake, back in his own bed.

Seconds later his phone began to ring. He slapped his hand around on his nightstand before locating his phone and answering it with a gruff, “Hello?”

“I will be there in ten minutes.” Cas’ voice was deep with sleep but that just seemed to add to the anger in his tone.

“Yeah, okay,” Dean replied, but Cas had already hung up.

Dean rolled over and saw that it was nearly five in the morning. On a normal day he’d usually be at the bakery by now. He was thankful he’d asked Kevin and Charlie to cover, 

He pushed himself up and took dragging steps to the kitchen to put some coffee on. The revelations of last night were all still roiling in his mind, but everything was jumbled up with the haze of sleep. Even so, he felt this mystery could only be solved with Castiel’s help anyway. And, true to his word, ten minutes from the phone call a knock came at the door.

Dean walked over and unlocked and opened the door only to have Cas barrel past him, still in socks and pajamas.

“Coffee?” Cas asked.

“Should be done by now.” Dean closed the door and relocked it before following Cas back into the kitchen. He let himself fall into a chair at his round, wooden kitchen table. He really needed to get himself a table cloth, all of the nicks from those times he’d foregone using a cutting board making him oddly self conscious. 

A few moments later Cas placed a mug of steaming coffee in front of him with a dash of cream, just how he liked it.

Dean had just opened his mouth to thank Cas when the man in question beat him to the punch.

“So you’re a hunter, I presume?” Cas took his own seat at the table. His posture was stiff but he sat in the chair nearest Dean’s own. That had to be a good sign, right?

“Yeah. You said you were a psychic, shouldn’t you have known that from the start?” Dean didn’t mean for it to sound quite so accusatory, but Cas had spit the word hunter out of his mouth like poison.

“My case is not typical,” Cas said. “I don’t get to enjoy any of the benefits of being a psychic despite the fact that I am considered quite powerful.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Dean asked but Cas shook his head.

“You first,” Cas insisted. “How did you get in my head like that? The intrusion felt crude, like a bastardized version of something else. That’s usually the M.O. of a hunter, but I’ve never felt something like it.”

“Wow, you really have a high regard for hunters,” Dean said, crossing his arms. “Still managed to sneak into a super powerful psychic’s mind with that crude, bastardized M.O., didn’t I?”

“I’m sorry, Dean. I meant no disrespect, but any magic performed on the mind seems inelegant at best when done by human hands.”

“You know, you’re kind of a snob sometimes,” Dean told him.

Cas ignored the comment. “However crude it felt, it was effective. How did you manage it?”

“African Dream Root,” Dean said. “Mix some up with your DNA and whammo! Dream city.”

Castiel jaw dropped. “African Dream Root?” he exclaimed.

“Uh,” Dean said, “yeah?”

“Are you some kind of idiot?” Cas shouted.

“Hey!” Dean protested. “I was trying to help!”

“By getting yourself killed in a dream?” Cas asked incredulously. “Dean, I told you that I had night terrors! Who the hell is to say you wouldn’t have been killed immediately upon arrival? Oh my god—oh my  _ god _ ! Did you even have a plan? What was your presence going to do anyway?”

Dean shrugged, red faced. “It wasn’t the best plan, alright?” Dean admitted. “But come on, man, what the hell did you expect me to do when you were having so much trouble sleeping that it was making you sick? I couldn’t just sit by and watch you waste away as the bags under your eyes got bigger.”

“But what was the plan?” Cas asked. “You didn’t even know what I dreamed about. It could have been anything.”

“I figured I just had to stay alive long enough to get to you and help you take control of your dreams. I saw it happen on a hunt once, where someone took back control over their dreams over outside forces. What’s to stop you from taking control of your dream from yourself?”

Cas scrunched his brow. “But you risked your life for something as trivial as a few hours of restful sleep?”

Dean shrugged again. “Well, I was kind of hoping it would lead to some sort of long term solution, you know. We’d be able to spend our nights together, our mornings. You could, I don’t know, move in or something. I know we hadn’t talked about it, but I know you, man, you wouldn’t give that conversation the time of day without a solution for your night terrors, or whatever the hell is really going on with you. You’re still leaving me hanging on an answer to that mountain of a question, by the way.”

Cas glared at him for a moment, clearly not pleased with Dean’s changing of the subject, but decided to go with it anyway. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “As I said, I’m a powerful psychic.”

Dean nodded. “Right, got that part. And you’re not like the other psychics, you’ve got the technicolor dreamcoat.”

“Yes, thank you for that sarcastic assessment,” Cas snapped.

Dean held up his hands in apology and surrender.

Cas nodded once and began, “It all goes back to before I was born.”

“Please don’t tell me there was a prophecy involved.”

Cas kicked Dean under the table, hard, and he yelped in response.

“My abilities run in the family. My father was a powerful psychic, as was his before him and his before him, and so on as far back as we recorded. The Shurley’s are actually quite famous among certain communities.”

“Who the hell are the Shurley’s?” Dean asked. “Uh, last I checked your name was Novak.”

Cas sighed. “Legally my last name is Novak, but that’s only because my father changed his last name and went into hiding.”

“Hiding?”

Cas nodded. “Because our family was so powerful, we were often the target of attacks by creatures who feed off psychic energy. There was one who was extremely powerful. Had taken out two other relatively prominent families. My father decided to go after it to try and stop it before anyone else was turned into a brain dead lump in a bed.” Cas stopped, swallowed, continued, “My father was a match for the creature, but he just... He couldn’t kill it. But he did manage to trap it in his head, in his dreams, specifically. It drained his usual psychic powers during the day because he had to focus them exclusively on keeping the creature trapped during his waking hours. It made him vulnerable to attack by any number of enemies he had made over the years so he went into hiding.

“His nights were spent fighting the creature in his dreams, never quite managing to kill it. And the thing is, fighting too hard during the dream can exhaust you during the day, but you still need enough power to keep him at bay. It’s such a delicate and tight balance, Dean. It’s an exhausting one.” Cas rubbed his forehead and took another sip of his coffee. “One day while in hiding my father came to the realization that he was never going to beat the creature. He could keep it at bay, hopefully well into his old age if some degenerative disease didn’t get him first, unfortunately common among psychics. But what was he going to do once he died? If his mind did start going? He didn’t know any other psychic as powerful as him, and he began a search, wearily traveling the world after whispers of power. He devoted three years to that pursuit, in the end realizing that any psychic that was trying this hard to keep off the radar would most likely be unwilling to help anyway.”

Cas took a long gulp of his coffee next and avoided Dean’s eye. “So he came up with another plan to find a powerful psychic.” He refused to meet Dean’s eyes, staring down into his coffee like it would swallow him whole and allow him to escape the rest of the conversation. “He began contacting surrogacy agencies and interviewing the surrogates to see if they had any psychic abilities. Hence, me and my three brothers.”

Dean’s mouth had dropped open at the thought of Cas and his brothers being created for such a specific purpose, but he managed to hide his reaction since Cas wasn’t looking. He thought it would probably be best to not comment. “I thought Gabriel was your only brother,” Dean said.

Cas nodded and a slight bit of tension seemed to leak out of his shoulders. “Only living brother.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up. “Is the reason for that the next part of your story?”

Cas nodded again. “I’m the youngest of all my brothers, by quite a few years. I believe I was created as a backup when Michael didn’t immediately begin to show signs of his abilities at puberty.”

“And Michael is the oldest?” Dean asked, taking a sip of his own coffee.

“Yes. He was the oldest, then Luc, then Gabriel. Each of them were two years apart from each other. But father needn’t have worried. Luc and Gabe both showed signs well before puberty, and Michael was merely a late bloomer, but powerful. All of us were. It was the real reason we needed tutors. We could just read our teachers’ minds during tests, persuade them to give us an A when we didn’t deserve it. We needed teachers who could see our tricks coming.” Cas paused, staring down into his nearly empty coffee mug.

“But there was another reason we had tutors.” Cas raised the mug to his lips and drained every last drop, tilting his head back.

Dean watched the long line of Cas’ throat as he waited for him to continue in his story. But Cas didn’t continue, instead he got up and poured himself another cup of coffee. He lifted the pot towards Dean in a silent question.

Dean rubbed his forehead. This was a lot of information, he could probably do with some more caffeine so he held his mug out and Cas poured him a generous amount.

“Do you need more cream?” Cas asked, making for the fridge.

“No, I’m good, thanks,” Dean said and continued to wait for Cas to go on.

But Cas was content to fiddle around in the fridge, poking around for god knows what because Dean knew Cas took his coffee black.

“Cas?” Dean prompted after it became clear he wasn’t going to continue on his own.

Cas sighed and seemed to deflate in on himself, but he did close the fridge door and return to the table, cup of coffee in his hand. “We were trained. Daily. It was something my father did as well. The idea was that if we knew the skill in real life we’d be able to bring that into our dreams. We were taught martial arts, battle strategy, even riddles. Anything that could help us, if not kill, then continue to restrain the creature. We were raised weapons.”

Dean knew the feeling. He wanted to reach out and show some solidarity, but felt that it would only make it harder for Cas to continue.

Castiel fidgeted in his seat, taking a gulp of his coffee. “Gabriel ran away when he was thirteen. I was four at the time, so I only have the vaguest recollections of that time when he was gone. I remember missing him, wondering when he was going to come back. Luc would laugh and tell me he ran away to get away from me, Michael would punch him and say it was really because Gabriel was a coward. I mean, really Gabe ran away because he didn’t want to have a monster shoved in his head if dad decided he was strong enough to try taking it on.” He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “And Gabe was the most likely candidate, despite being younger than Mike and Luc. Somehow Gabriel was just stronger, his brain more imaginative and his problem solving skills unorthodox but quicker than anyone else’s. So he packed up and ran. I don’t blame him, I would have done the same thing in his situation.” Cas fidgeted again. “I’d like to think that dad would have taken into account that Gabriel was opposed to the idea of taking that monster on, but… Dad always had a sense of ‘the greater good’ about him, you know? That it was okay to do small bad things like raise your children as weapons and force them to fight a giant monster because it would ultimately lead to the protection of all humanity.” Cas sighed. “And when you put it like that, it’s hard to not see the grand scheme of things. What are four lives to billions?” Cas finally looked up with his last statement, eyes a little shiny but hard.

Dean reached out and grabbed Cas’ hands where they were twisting together agitatedly on the table. “Raising kids as weapons isn’t a small bad thing, Cas,” Dean told him, shaking his head. “It’s not justifiable.”

Cas looked up from where he had been staring into the depths of his coffee. “You were raised a hunter?”

Dean blushed but nodded. Cas had basically already known that, since Dean had told Cas he’d been raised in the life of a bounty hunter, but he was embarrassed to have been caught out for speaking from experience so easily. “Ever since my mom was killed by a demon when I was four.”

“I’m sorry, Dean.”

Dean shrugged it off. “It was a long time ago. And, you know what’s kinda funny? Well, not really like  _ haha  _ funny, but um… I—uh—I actually did used to get night terrors as a kid, if you’ll believe it.” Dean let out a surprised huff of a laugh. “I mean, when I was a kid I just thought they were regular old nightmares, but researching everything when I thought you had them made it pretty clear that what I had were way too intense to be nightmares. I think I woke up like once a week from a panic attack for at least a year.”

Cas looked stricken. “I’m sorry I was callous enough to use it as an excuse, Dean.”

Dean shook his head and squeezed Cas’ hands that he still held. “Not a big deal, Cas. Especially since it kind of sounds like you have a monster living in your head that you have to fight every night.”

Cas conceded the point with a nod. “Still.”

Dean shrugged. “It’s really okay with me, Cas. If you hadn’t made that up I wouldn’t have even known they were night terrors. And now I only get them once in a blue moon. I mean… we lied to each other, right? Me being a hunter, you being a psychic. Can we just agree to forgive each other and move on from there?”

“Of course,” Cas said, and then, “Thank you.”

There was a silence that was neither awkward nor comfortable, just there to give them a slight break from all the emotional talk. Dean took one of his hands back, but kept the other firmly locked around Cas’. He wanted to help keep Cas grounded somehow.

“I was four, too,” Cas spoke up suddenly. “When it happened.”

“Four?” Dean exclaimed, nearly doing a spit take with his coffee.

“Yes,” Cas said. “Same as you.”

“I was four when I saw my mom die, not when I fought my first monster!” No, that had been when he was six.

Cas furrowed his brow. “It’s not like I asked for it. My father hadn’t even meant to give me the burden.”

“Then how—“

“I don’t really like to talk about it,” Cas said. “It’s… hard, sometimes, to put it into words.”

“Oh,” Dean said. “No, yeah, I get that.”

Cas nodded, “Thank you.” He turned his hand over in Dean’s and slotted their fingers together. “I could—“ Cas licked his lips. “I mean, I could try and show you my memories of that night? I could project them into your head.”

“Thought you said you were powerless when you had that thing in your head.”

“It’s actually pretty simple to show someone a memory. It’s about the extent of my powers.”

Dean nodded. “Alright. If you’re okay with that.”

Cas cleared his throat but nodded his head sharply. “Yes. I’d like you to understand, as much as possible, anyway.”

“Of course, yeah.” Dean squeezed Cas’ hand. “Whenever you’re ready, I guess.”

Cas sighed and closed his eyes. He took his free hand and touched two fingers to Dean’s forehead. Dean closed his eyes as a wave of nausea came over him, but it was gone in a blink. When he opened his eyes again he gasped.

The world looked gigantic. How the hell was he was eye level with a door knob?

“Michael, will you please take care of Castiel?”

Dean startled at the voice and looked up. And up and up until he saw a pair of tired eyes under a fringe of shaggy brown hair. He looked familiar. Dean was sure he had seen him before.

“Yes, father.”

Dean could have smacked himself on the forehead. Duh. Of course it was Cas’ dad, Dean recognized him from the picture over the mantelpiece.

A new figure walked in front of him, this one taller still with neatly combed dark hair and blue eyes that looked just like Castiel’s.

“Stop crying, Castiel,” he said. “This is a great honor.”

Involuntarily, Dean reached a whole arm up and rubbed it across his eyes and nose. “Not crying,” he said, but it came out in almost a squeak compared to his real voice. And then it all made sense. This was Cas’ memory,  _ he was Cas. _ A four year old Cas, apparently, based off of what Cas had told him and the fact that he barely came up to the waist of the dude in front of him. His jaw would drop, but he didn’t really have a say in stuff like that right now.

There was a hand gripping his shoulder and then he was led out of the room, the door closing behind him with a loud thud. The last thing he saw before the room got dark was a pair of eyes staring at him underneath a fringe of dirty blonde hair.

Then the scene dissolved into darkness before rematerializing as what looked like the hallway outside of Cas’ room. The door before him was opened just the slightest bit so the Cas he was currently inhabiting stepped forward to get a better look through the crack. The same guy from before, the one that led him out of the room—Michael—was on a bed, thrashing while his father tried calming him down. When that didn’t work, his father spun around and fixed Castiel with a glare.

“Go get Luc,” he commanded and the next thing Dean knew tiny feet were carrying him away from the scene, but not too far because Luc seemed to be waiting just around the corner with a grin on his face.

“Is father looking for me?” he asked, already pushing past Castiel.

The scene dissolved again and the next thing Dean knew he was hearing shouting. There was a flash and he saw Michael lying spread eagle on the floor next to his bed, blood trickling out of his nose. Blackness again before Cas’ father and Luc swam in front of his vision.

“— _ supposed to be fighting it—“ _

A scoff. “But why should I?”

Things came into focus again and Dean once again found himself peering through a crack in the doorway at the two of them squaring off against each other.

“Don’t you know how powerful it is?” That was Luc speaking.

“Of course I do!” his father shouted, throwing his arms up. “I’ve spent my whole life fighting it!”

“Then you know how powerful we could be,  _ together _ —“

“Luc, you have to be smarter than this—you have to be smarter than  _ it _ !”

Luc shook his head. “Maybe I’m just being smarter than  _ you _ .”

The scene turned black in front of him but he could hear a scuffle going on. There was another flash and the same scene appeared in front of him, except this one had a third person—or being, really, since it only looked like a person in the vaguest of terms—looming over Luc’s shoulder. The image was gone almost as soon as it came, but the look of the creature stayed with Dean. Humanoid but with limbs too long and gangling to be anything but nightmarish.

Dean didn’t understand exactly what he saw next. There was a fight going on in front of him, he could see punches being thrown and dodged, kicks being blocked, but it was like there was another movie being played over his eyes at the same time. That creature was there, but this time it was surrounding Luc, thick tentacle-like strings attaching them at nearly every point looking like it was trying to absorb him. And it was lashing out at Cas’ father, who was somehow fighting back despite being occupied fighting Luc.

Dean wanted to close his eyes, the double vision was giving him a headache, but the four year old Cas he was currently inhabiting had his eyes glued to the scene.

Suddenly both versions of Cas’ dad spotted Cas standing in the half opened doorway. The creature now had its disgusting limbs wrapped around the bottom half of Cas’ dad like some huge python from a Syfy original. The other one wasn’t faring much better; Luc had managed to wrestle him to the ground and was now delivering punches to his face.

“ _ Cas. _ ” The voice came from both outside and inside and that freaked Dean right the fuck out. “ _ Cas _ .”

Dean’s vision blurred and he began to feel warm tears race each other down his face. He could just make out Cas’ father closing his eyes before a bright white light suffused the scene and the next thing Dean knew he was flat on his back with a headache like he had gotten his head smacked into some concrete. Repeatedly.

His eyes blinked open and saw a much younger, much more serious looking Gabriel.

“I’m so sorry, Cassie.”

Dean felt his eyes squint and confusion wash over him before a ball of dread formed in his stomach and grew so large it made him queasy. Tears ran down his face and he could feel wails being torn from his throat.

“I’m so fucking sorry, Cassie,” Gabriel’s voice broke on the curse word and Dean realized that Gabriel was crying too. “I shouldn’t have left, I should never have left.”

A chill ran through Dean and the scene dissolved back into his kitchen. Cas pulled his fingers away from Dean’s forehead and dropped his hand into his lap. He wouldn’t look at Dean.

“I’m sorry, Cas,” Dean told him. It was weak, a pathetic response to what Dean had just witnessed, but he had never pretended to be eloquent. And besides, just because he could sort of relate didn’t mean Dean knew what to say to make Cas feel better. If he did he’d have said it to himself years ago.

Cas shrugged. “It was a long time ago.”

Dean nodded. The stuff that happened with his mom was a long time ago, too. Didn’t mean it didn’t still hurt sometimes. “I get it,” Dean said. “But still. You deserved better, Cas.”

Cas shook his head. “It’s all I’ve ever known,” he replied. “I had never even thought of living for myself before.”

“Before what?” Dean asked.

Cas looked at Dean, and Dean felt a little like he was being x-rayed. “You.”

“Me?” Dean spluttered.

Cas rolled his eyes and in Dean’s distraction pulled his hand free from Dean’s grip. That was definitely not the reaction Dean had been hoping for, but he couldn’t help himself. “Whoa, whoa, wait,” Dean said. “Hold up—me? You didn’t care about living until me? That doesn’t make any sense, Cas.”

Cas crossed his arms and looked away with a huff.

Dean didn’t try to get ahold of Cas’ hand again, not that he would have been able to without physically prying Cas’ hands away from where they were still firmly across his chest. 

“It’s not like Gabriel didn’t try and get me to have hobbies,” Cas said with a shrug of his shoulders. “I just never saw the point before.”

“You never saw the point of living for yourself?” Dean asked, staring at Cas with eyes opened wide in their confusion.

“I was trained as a soldier, Dean. My father may have been gone, but my tutors and trainers were still around and they were under the orders of the estate to continue my ‘education.’”

“But didn’t you ever want something for yourself?”

Cas looked up at Dean with a glare. “That’s rich, coming from you,” he snapped.

“Me?” Dean asked, on the verge of scandalized.

“Just because you lied about what your father hunted, don’t think that I don’t know the rest of it is true.”

Dean crossed his own arms now. “The rest of what?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“Raising Sam,” Cas told him flatly. “Putting him above everything else, even yourself.”

Dean scoffed. “That is completely different!” 

Cas raised a single eyebrow. “How?”

“I had to take care of Sammy, he was my responsibility,” Dean told Cas.

“Yes,” Cas conceded. “And when I was four I got the responsibility of protecting the world from a monster.”

“Yeah, but you don’t owe the world anything, Cas,” Dean said, shaking his head.

“You didn’t owe Sam anything.”

“He was my brother!” Dean shouted. His ears were practically ringing. Sure, Cas was right that Dean shouldn’t have had to raise Sammy, but not having any sense of responsibility for his brother? That was bullshit. 

“Yes, so he was your father’s responsibility. You were a child, Dean.”

Dean shook his head. “I’m his big brother. There’s responsibility there, Cas.”

“Yes,” Cas conceded. “But not the responsibility that you took on. You were his parent. You stopped living for you the moment your dad told you to. I did the same.”

Dean shook his head again, more forcefully this time. “But it’s—no, you don’t get it, Cas,” Dean told him. “It’s still different, me and you.”

“What is so different, Dean? That you do it for—“

“Because I don’t matter!” Dean blurted out.

Cas’ mouth snapped shut on a ready retort. “What?” he asked dumbly.

“I—I just mean…” Dean sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. That had slipped out completely by accident. “I didn’t mean to start this whole fight. I just meant that your life is worth so much, Cas.” Dean closed his eyes like, trying to wrap his head around it. “You’re the best person I know. How can you not see that?”

Cas’ cheeks tinged pink before he smiled shyly. “You do know that I feel the exact same about you, don’t you?”

“W—what?” Dean asked, heat rushing to his cheeks.

Cas rolled his eyes. “Of course you’re the best person I know, Dean. How did you not know that? You were literally in my head. Specifically, the part of my head where I store all my memories and thoughts and…” Cas blushed and cleared his throat. “Basically, I stored you with the rest of you in my head because it was easier for me to compartmentalize the barriers that way.”

“Oh, that was you compartmentalizing? I figured your brain was just a little preoccupied.” Dean threw Cas a wink.

Cas huffed out a laugh in return. “How do you go from a blushing mess to a smooth talking asshole in three seconds flat?”

Dean smirked. “Compartmentalizing.”

Cas punched him in the arm but Dean just laughed. “Anyway,” he continued. “You must have… The manifestation of the room wasn’t exactly subtle. I didn’t have time to put a lot of effort into toning it down.”

“Are you talking about the giant pictures of me on the walls?” Dean grinned as he leaned back in his chair, taking a sip of his now room temperature coffee.

“Yes. I’m just glad I managed to get rid of the giant pictures of your penis I had hanging next to them.”

Dean  _ did _ do a spit take at that, spraying the table with coffee. “What?”

Cas just laughed.

“Wait, really, though?” Dean asked.

“You’ll never know,” Cas replied, still chuckling.

“You totally did,” Dean said. “You love Little Dean.”

“I don’t really want to confess my love for you as the continuation of a dick joke, but you had to have known what I was building up to, and you did sort of give me the perfect segue, there.”

It took Dean a moment to register it, and the exact second was pinpointed as he let his expression change from one of pinched confusion to open awe.

“I love Big Dean, too,” Cas said, hammering home the point.

Dean burst into laughter. “Oh my  _ god _ !” He grabbed Cas and pulled him into his lap. “I can’t decide whether I’m excited to tell our future children about this, or whether I’m going to come up with a cover story so they never know what a pervert their father is.” At the word ‘pervert,’ Dean’s roaming hands squeezed Cas’ ass.

Cas smile was huge and gummy, and he was back to laughing. “I think it’s more like you’re really excited to tell them, you’re just mad I’m the one that said it.” Cas wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck and gave him a serious look. “I’m sorry, Dean, but you’re just going to have to accept that I’m the funny one in this relationship.”

“Now  _ that _ was funny,” Dean snorted, but at the same time he felt his heart soar in his chest. Dean had mentioned future children and Cas had just rolled with it like it was no big deal. Like it was a given. 

Cas leaned forward, Dean did the same, their mouths a whisper apart.

“You know, I came here to yell at you for being reckless,” Cas said softly, his hands cupping Dean’s cheeks.

“Yeah, but apparently you love my reckless ass.”

“Actually, I believe it was your penis.” Cas leaned the rest of the way in, and their mouths met each other in a laugh.

Dean pulled away and breathed into the air between them, “I do, too.”

Cas kissed Dean again.

“I do,” Dean said, voice stronger.

“I know,” Cas said. “You did just risk your life just so I could sleep.”

“And I’d do it again,” Dean said, leaning in for a kiss that was no longer reciprocated. “Uh, what’s happening?”

“I don’t want you to do it again,” Cas told him.

Dean raised his brows at that. “Why not?” he asked. “You basically implied that you’re like your father, even match but can’t beat the thing, right? Well, two-on-one are odds I like, Cas.”

“You could die, Dean!” Cas pushed himself as far back as he could go without getting off of Dean’s lap.

“Uh, I’m guessing it’s not all sunshine and daisies for you if you lose, either,” Dean shot back.

Cas shook his head. “No, it’s too dangerous. I can’t let you.”

“Come on, Cas,” Dean said. “I was a hunter, I’m good in a fight. You can teach me all about his technique and style, we can plan our attack out here, then we get in there and gank the son of a bitch.”

“Dean, dream fighting isn’t anything like fighting in the real world.”

“I know,” Dean said. “I’m guessing like Green Lantern style. I gotta admit, he was never my favorite superhero, but his ring of power did always seem awesome. Although, last time I dream walked I didn’t get any kind of powers, but that’s alright. Like I said, I’m damn good in a fight.”

Cas pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s a terrible idea.”

“It’s a great idea,” Dean shot back jovially. “Now come on, let’s get back to the kissing.” He raised his eyebrows twice in invitation.

“We are not done with this conversation, Dean.”

“Cas?” Dean said, grabbing Cas around his waist and pulling him back in until they were chest to chest. “We’re putting that conversation on hold. We sort of just admitted our love for each other, so I’d really like to celebrate this great milestone in our relationship.”

“Okay, yes, fine,” Cas agreed. “But we are coming back to this.”

Dean nodded as he pulled Cas back in and sealed their mouths together.


	5. Chapter 5

“Do you always have those wings?” Dean asked as he and Cas lay together in his queen sized bed. Cas was half on top of him, head directly over his heart. Dean was gently caressing the area on Cas’ shoulder blades where his wings had protruded.

Cas blushed. “Is it really dorky if I say yes?”

“Hell no, man!” Dean insisted. “Those things were fuckin’ badass!’

Cas’ blush got worse. “Really?”

“Dude, you looked like some giant avenging angel or something! Totally fuckin’ badass, babe.”

Cas turned his smile into Dean’s chest and pressed a kiss there before leaning up on an elbow to look at Dean. “Thank you. I’m glad you like them. They were the first thing I manifested in a dream. I got attached.”

Dean smiled at him. “They’re awesome.”

Cas was just leaning down to kiss Dean when he caught sight of the clock and groaned. He dropped his head to Dean’s chest instead. “We’re late for work.”

Dean laughed. “Charlie and Kevin have it covered for the morning shift, babe, I called them yesterday.”

“Dean, it’s almost noon,” Cas told him.

That had Dean jumping out of bed. “What the hell, when did that happen?”

“Probably sometime during the three rounds of sex we had,” Cas replied, rolling onto his back and stretching.

“Come on, shower,” Dean told him, smacking his thigh and hobbling a little as he walked into the attached bathroom.

Cas sighed but followed him in, pouting when they didn’t have time for more than the actual shower.

\--

“Babe, we were supposed to be there ten minutes ago,” Dean said once they were both dried off and pulling their clothes on. “Besides,  _ dude _ , I’m not a teenager anymore. I’m not even sure I could get it up again today.”

Cas sighed as he sat down on the edge of Dean’s bed and pulled his socks on. “I know. I was just trying to prolong our afternoon together.”

Dean sat down next to him with a slight wince and leaned over, planting a kiss on Cas’ temple. “We’re about to spend the rest of our afternoon working together.”

Cas sighed again. “We put our previous conversation on hold.”

“It can stay on hold until after work,” Dean told him.

Cas nodded. “Alright. Until after work.”

Dean kissed him again. “Now get your shoes on, we’re crazy late.”

\--

Tensions were high between the two of them while they were at work, but luckily Wednesdays were usually slow, and today was no different. The sparse stream of customers hardly noticed that neither Dean nor Cas were their usual cheery selves. And it wasn’t even that they were being frosty towards each other, they were just so preoccupied with stacking up their arguments that they were hardly paying attention to each other which, if anything, was weirder.

When Dean finally flipped the open sign to closed and locked the door, the two of them took a moment to breathe before rounding on each other.

“It’s a good plan,” Dean told him.

“It’s too dangerous,” Cas replied. “Dean, you die in my dream you die in real life. The adversary is not something to take lightly. I’ve been fighting him my whole life and I haven’t been able to defeat him!”

“Exactly my point!” Dean threw his hands up before walking back to the counter to grab the broom. He had already cleaned the tables as he waited for the clock to tick down the minutes before he could close. “If you can’t do something on your own, then you ask someone to help you.”

“This isn’t your responsibility, Dean,” Cas told him. He was standing behind the till, trying to count the money. He had started over twice now, getting distracted each time Dean opened his mouth.

“Like hell it’s not!” Dean flung his arms out, nearly knocking over a stack of plates fresh from being washed. He looked sheepish for a moment at realizing what he had almost done and then furiously began sweeping. “I mean, come on Cas. Didn’t we just have three rounds of sex to celebrate exactly why this is my fucking responsibility?”

Cas threw the money back into the register with a huff. He leaned forward on the counter and hung his head. “I can’t let you risk your life for me, Dean.”

“Why the hell not?” Dean demanded. He had stopped sweeping to glare at Cas. “Cas, I spent my life risking my life for complete fucking strangers, you bet your ass I’m going to risk my life for you.”

Cas was shaking his head when he answered. “You’re not understanding me, Dean _. It’s too dangerous _ .” He said it slowly as if Dean just hadn’t heard.

Dean threw the broom to the ground in frustration and marched over to Cas. “I don’t care, Cas. I’m not letting you go another night fighting a monster without backup.”

“No, Dean. You try to come in I’m locking you back up with the rest of you. You’re not getting near the adversary.”

“I’m going to kick this ‘adversary’s’ ass whether you like it or not, Cas. You need help to put an end to it, otherwise you would have done it already.”

“No,” he said again in a growl. “He will kill you, Dean. I cannot allow that to happen. He will not take anyone else from me.”

“He’s not going to, Cas. Me and you? We’re good together. We’re the perfect fucking team, babe.”

“We’ve never fought together a day in our lives.”

Dean shrugged. “So? We can spar together a little, get a feel for it.”

“We can’t get a ‘feel for it,’ Dean,” Cas said, doing the finger quotes. “You wouldn’t even begin to know how to fight in a dream. The same rules of physics don’t apply.”

“I’m great at adapting, Cas.”

Cas ran his fingers through his hair, leaving it standing on end. He was shaking his head again.

“If anything, I can hold my own until you wake up.”

“Dean…”

“Hey, look,” Dean said. “You told me you were all famous in the psychic world or whatever? Well, me and mine? We’re sort of pretty well known for hunters, too.”

“It’s too dangerous, Dean,” Cas said for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

“Give me a chance, at least,” Dean said. “It looks like I’m about to die, zap me to that other place in your head.”

Cas crossed his arms but Dean knew that look on his face, like he was reexamining a previous set of facts.

“Ah,” Dean pointed a finger at Cas. “You know that’s reasonable, you can’t deny me that.”

Cas uncrossed his arms but balled his hands into fists at his side. “You may attempt to help me, once, after we thoroughly discuss battle plans, fighting styles, strengths and weaknesses. We will also spar together, to get a ‘feel for’ each other.”

“Okay, but you better not push me out for something stupid. No itchy trigger fingers, over there, got it? Leave me there until I’m like verge of death.”

“I’m not leaving you until you’re on the verge of death, Dean.”

“I just mean don’t push me out just because he’s about to hit me. I can take a punch, you don’t have to worry about that.”

Cas shook his head again, this time looking up to the heavens. “What am I agreeing to?” he lamented.

“To fighting for your life,” Dean said with a nonchalant sort of shrug.

Cas nodded twice and straightened his posture. “Do you really think this will work?”

“Hell yes, I do,” Dean said. “Trust me, this is one of my better plans, and I’m still alive and kickin’.” He bent down and picked the broom back up, and he began sweeping again. “This is going to work, Cas.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“I am, Cas, trust me.” Dean threw him a wink. “But if you need some more incentive, how about after we kick this things ass, we celebrate your newfound freedom by spending every night together by, um,” his cheeks turned a slight pink, “maybe moving in together?”

Cas, who had just picked up the money to begin his count again, dropped it back into the till. Again. “What?” he asked.

“Um, move in with me?” Dean’s cheeks were full on red now, but it was a charming complement to his hopeful little smile.

“Move in?” Cas repeated dumbly.

Dean’s face fell. “Oh, if it’s too fast, I get it, man. It was, you know, just a thought—“ He was cut off by Cas’ lips crashing into his. Dean had been so busy trying to backtrack he hadn’t even noticed Cas march around the front counter to Dean.

“It’s not too fast,” Cas whispered between their lips. “Or if it is, I don’t care.”

Dean smiled and leaned into another kiss.

Cas pulled away after a few moments with a displeased grunt. “We better get back to work if we want to make it home anytime soon. We have more to celebrate, and a lot more to discuss.

Dean groaned. “You’re right, you’re right. We shouldn’t get distracted.” He shook himself. “Okay, back to work.” He bent down and picked up his broom from where he had dropped it, again.

\--

“He favors sneak attacks,” Cas said later that night. “Never trust a noise in the distance or anything of the kind.”

“Sneak attacks, got it.” Dean stirred the pot of sauce in front of him. “Hand me the basil, please.” He pointed to the opposite side of the kitchen where the herb in question was growing in a pot on the windowsill.

“He also favors changing his shape. Snakes are his favorite, but he’s also often birds. Though, I suspect the last one is because I tend to favor flying. But I’m better at it than him, so it works to my advantage.” He walked over to the pot and tore a few of the larger leaves off of the plant before washing them in the sink and returning them to Dean.

“Those big ol’ wings of yours really come in handy, then, huh?” he asked with a smile as he tore the basil up and sprinkled it in the simmering pot.

Cas nodded and leaned against the counter next to the stove. “I think so.”

“Maybe you can give me some wings, too. I bet you I’d look pretty badass.”

“You would have to learn to fly. He’d have an advantage over you.”

“I’m a fast learner. Slap some on me, I’ll be good to go.” Dean leaned down to peer under the pot as he turned the dial on the burner, turning the flames down to just the right level to allow the pot to simmer. “What else do I need to know?”

“I hate that we’re doing a crash course,” Cas said, crossing his arms.

“It’s all we’ve got time for, now let’s go, come on. Let’s plan this shit out, give me more.”

Cas sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Okay. He’s sloppy a lot of the time. Punches wide or leaves himself open. Watch out for that, because it’s usually a trap.”

“So this guy’s pretty tricky, huh?” He uncovered the other pot on the stove, steam billowing from it.

Cas grabbed the box of pasta on the counter next to him, ripped the top open and handed it to Dean who dumped the whole thing into the boiling water. “He does favor evasive and annoying techniques. They’re designed to tire me out so that my defenses will go down far enough that he’s able to escape and basically take over my body which could potentially lead to at least country-wide takeover.”

“So no pressure,” Dean said.

Cas huffed out a humorless laugh. “His technique makes it difficult to fight him head on. What I have to do to defeat him is quite straightforward: stab it in the heart and it dies.” He sighed and rubbed his temples where a migraine was starting to form. “But he loves to hide in different forms, and it only works if it’s the real him. More often than not I’m fighting a copy. I often try laying traps for him to fall into, puzzles or riddles he has to solve before he’s able to escape it. I usually only put those out when he’s exhausted me and I need a few moments of peace to recuperate.”

“What does that mean? You trap him in puzzles?” Dean furrowed his brow curiously.

“It was a trick my dad taught me before he died. The thing is, I’m in charge of my own dream. I control the parameters of the world in the dream. I can make it so that anyone that hears a riddle must answer it before they can move. It takes a bit of effort to push a trap like that into existence, but they’re a lifesaver.”

“Does that mean I’d be able to do it, too? Trap him with a riddle?”

Cas hummed as he pondered the question. “I think perhaps you might have to warn me so I can make it law, but I don’t see why you wouldn’t be able to tell a riddle.”

Dean nodded. “Awesome. We should come up with some code words for our different moves.”

“Okay,” Cas said. “We’ll have to come up with some moves, first.”

Dean grinned. “This is gonna be fun.”

They spent the rest of the night discussing the best tactics to fight the adversary, trying to come up with every possible scenario so they could create a contingency plan. Luckily, Cas mostly had autonomy over the setting of the dream. A tactical advantage that Dean berated Cas for not taking full advantage of.

They planned until pretty late, Cas wouldn’t leave until he was confident the plan had at least a ninety percent chance of working. Dean had rolled his eyes, but he was still pretty confident the plan they had come up with did in fact have that high of a success rate, so he didn’t argue with Cas on it.

In the end they decided to hold off on their earlier desire to celebrate until it could become official. Dean was confident it would be tomorrow. Cas was trying not to hope too hard, but Dean’s good mood was infectious. They also needed to get a move on if they planned on putting their plan into action tonight.

Dean gave Cas one last kiss before he practically had to push him into his car. “Okay, you gotta get going otherwise I don’t think we’re going to sleep tonight.”

Cas laughed but did get in the car. 

Dean bent down, leaning his elbows through the open window. “See you in a few,” he said. 

Cas nodded but didn’t say anything. 

“We’ve got this, alright?” Dean told him. “I promise.”

Cas nodded again. “You really think this will work?”

“Hell yeah,” Dean said. “Do it just like we planned, alright?”

“I’ll text you right before.” Cas stuck his head through the open window and kissed Dean. “Sweet dreams, Dean.”

“They all will be soon, Cas. Promise.”

One last kiss and then Cas was driving away. It was a weird feeling, watching him go. Dean knew he was going to see him within about twenty minutes, but it was going to be in a fight for their lives. 


	6. Chapter 6

Cas arrived home a little after ten that night.

“Gabriel?” he called, throwing his keys onto a side table.

“Upstairs, little bro!” came the reply.

Cas turned towards the staircase and began making his way up. Gabriel had tried confronting him that morning about his dream, but Cas had taken off in such a hurry he didn’t even think he’d said a word to Gabe on his way out. Cas was not looking forward to the conversation they were surely about to have.

“Ah, Castiel,” Gabriel said when Cas finally appeared in the doorway to his room. “My favorite pain in the ass little brother.”

“Hello, Gabriel,” Cas replied stiffly.

“Well, come in, sit your ass down, we don’t have all night here.” Gabe motioned towards the bed.

Cas nodded, confused. “You’re not going to ask me about this morning?”

Gabriel sighed and wiped a hand down his face. “Do you want to tell me about this morning?”

Cas looked down at his shoes and gave a single shake of his head.

“Then I don’t want to know,” Gabe said. “I’m done fighting with you. If you don’t want to tell me why I could sense your boytoy in the room last night, then—“

“You could sense him?” Cas asked sharply.

Gabriel nodded. “I don’t know how. I just know that there were three people I could sense in that head of yours last night, and with the way you took off in an angry huff this morning, I’m guessing you noticed, too.”

Cas walked over and sat down on the edge of his bed. “Dean is a hunter.”

Gabe let out a low whistle. “You sure know how to pick ‘em, Cassie.”

“He’s not like the ones dad talked about,” Cas said.

“You sure about that?” Gabe asked.

“Positive,” Cas replied with a glare.

Gabe held his hands up in surrender. “Hey, it’s your life we’re dealing with.”

“Dean would never hurt me,” Cas practically growled. “I mean, my god, you’ve met him. He’s still Dean.”

“As long as you’re sure he’s more concerned with you than killing the monster inside of you.”

“He is,” Cas assured him. “He used African Dream Root just to try and help me achieve more restful sleep.”

Gabriel laughed. “I knew he was too pretty to be smart.”

“He’s smart,” Cas said, “just incredibly reckless.”

“Whatever,” Gabe said. “Should I be expecting anymore nighttime visits from Prince Dumbass?”

“Um, about that,” Cas said. “We sort of have a plan.”

\--

Dean sat in bed fiddling with his phone. He had just gotten Cas’ goodnight text and knew it would only be a few more minutes before he’d have to take the African Dream Root. Usually dreams came around ninety minutes into sleeping, but Cas was again a special case. His started almost the minute he fell asleep. They suspected the reason was the psychic powers and the monster.

He decided he’d waited long enough and was plugging his phone into charge when he heard a knock at the door. He furrowed his brow and swung his feet off the side of his bed as the knock came again.

He walked over and peered through his peephole. Ginger bangs greeted him and he groaned, swinging the door open to his best friend.   

“Don’t kill me but Sam sent me to keep an eye on you,” Charlie told him with a sheepish smile and the vulcan salute.

Dean shook his head. “Go home, Charlie, everything is fine.”

“So you’re not going to try anything, oh, I don’t know— _reckless_ —tonight?” she asked, pushing past him and walking into Dean’s house. “Because Sam sounded pretty worried.”

“What happened to you being on my side?” Dean asked, closing the door. “I thought you said it was romantic!”

Charlie shook her head and put her hand on Dean’s shoulder. “It is romantic. But romantic can sometimes mean really stupid. And this? It’s really stupid.”

“I already did it,” Dean told her flatly. “Yesterday.”

Charlie’s eyes widened in shock for a moment before she nodded. “Okay and in hindsight Sam assuming you’d keep your promise yesterday was really stupid, too. Maybe it’s not romantics, maybe it’s just men.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “I’m still alive aren’t I?”

“But did it work?” Charlie asked.

“It will tonight.” Dean looked over Charlie’s head to the clock across the room. He needed to get to sleep. “So if you can leave now and cover for me in the morning, that would be great, thanks.” He tried pushing her towards the door but she just walked further into his house. “Charlie, seriously, I have to go.”

“What happened in it?”

“What?” Dean asked.

Charlie rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “Well, I can’t exactly leave you here without making sure you’ll be okay. What if he dreams about things like drowning in volcanoes, what do you do then? Huh?”

“Okay, first of all, I don’t think it’s drowning that you’re doing in a volcano—”

“You know what I mean,” Charlie said, but Dean continued talking over her.

“—And second, I really will explain everything, but I need to go to sleep. I swear I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

“No way, I need assurances that you won’t be dead tomorrow.” She actually tapped her foot on the floor.

Dean made a show of his frustration, groaning and rolling his eyes nearly out of their sockets. “How is me being alive today not proof that I’ll be alive tomorrow?” At Charlie’s continued silence, Dean went on, “Look, long story short, turns out Cas’ problem is supernatural so I’m going to do what I used to do best and kick some monster ass.”

Charlie’s jaw dropped. “What?” she asked. “You didn’t lead with that?”

“Well, I’m kind of on a time crunch. I was hoping to avoid lengthy explanations like this one. Cas is kind of waiting for me.”

“Shit,” Charlie said, then louder, “Shit!” She wrung her hands. “Okay, fine. But you better not die in there, and you better explain everything when you wake up. Like, the second you wake up.”

“Deal,” Dean said. “Now, not to be rude, but please get out of my house.”

\--

  
Cas couldn’t see Dean anywhere. His wings beat on either side of him as he scanned the landscape. A large forest spread out beneath him, trees spreading all the way to the horizon, except for directly below him where a small lake lay tranquil. It made Castiel nervous to have so much cover for his adversary, but he and Dean had agreed it was a good plan. Not that the plan would matter if Dean didn’t show up.

He flew a little closer to the ground, hoping to catch sight of Dean before his adversary arrived.

Castiel’s stomach plummeted. What if his adversary already had Dean? What if that was why the two of them were nowhere to be found?

No, Cas couldn’t think like that. Besides, last time Dean had shown up right next to him, it made sense that the same thing would happen again. At least, that’s what he kept telling himself as the minutes ticked by, still with no sight of Dean or his adversary.

He saw movement below him. A snake slithered out from underneath some fallen leaves. Cas reacted almost without thought, manifesting his blade and diving straight down. He managed to pierce the tail before it slithered away, pinning it as his blade sunk into the packed dirt beneath it. But the head of the snake had already started changing and the next thing Cas knew a bear paw hit him in the face, sending him flying into a tree. He bounced off of it and landed face first in the dirt. He sprang up, swiping his blade as he went but his adversary was gone.

Cas cursed as he looked around but all he could see were trees, static with the lack of wind. If Cas was going to give his adversary so many hiding spots he was at least going to make it easier on himself to spot any movement.

He debated for a moment between walking through the trees to look for his adversary or flying above them again to aid in his search. The tree cover was a little thick to see movement on the ground to be honest, but Cas couldn’t deny that he was not looking forward to walking through those trees alone. Dean was supposed to be here. He was supposed to be helping. But of course, Cas got his hopes up just to have them dashed. This was just like that time Gabriel had thought he had finally figured out how their dad had transferred possession of his adversary, but to no avail. It’s never to any avail.

His wings flared out on either side of him and he flipped his blade in his hand in agitation.

“ _Little Castiel.”_

_“Castiel.”_

_“Want to play a game?”_

_“Play a game?”_

Castiel sighed. No, he did not want to play a game. He was so sick and tired of games. “Just come out and fight me,” he growled.

“ _Aw, little Castiel wants a fight.”_

_“A fight.”_

_“Is he ready for us?”_

_“For us?”_

Cas let a second blade slide into his left hand. “You bet your fuckin’ ass I am.”

He heard a slight rustle behind him and spun with his blade at the ready but there was nothing there. Suspecting one of his adversary’s tricks, Cas ducked and kicked his leg out behind him, swiping it along the ground. It made contact with a figure and he heard a thump and an ‘oof.’ That was new.

Cas turned his head and saw Dean sprawled on the ground.

“You’re late,” Cas said, hurrying over and pulling Dean to his feet.

“Shit, sorry,” Dean said, brushing the dust from his front. “Sam sent Charlie to babysit. Took a bit to convince her this was a good plan.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Cas said. “I did not mean to attack you.”

Dean shrugged it off. “Weapons?” he asked.

Cas nodded and with a thought a machete and gun appeared in Dean’s hands.

“Nice,” Dean said as he looked them over with a grin that Cas loved.  

Cas was just opening his mouth to reply when something grabbed his ankle and yanked. The next thing Cas knew he had a face full of dirt and was being dragged backwards. And based on Dean’s shout, the same thing was happening to him.

Cas kicked out at whatever was wrapped around his ankle. He made contact on the second try and shot up into the air, only to get tangled in tree branches. He really hated these stupid trees. He pulled his wings in and dropped back to the ground, running towards Dean who was disappearing between the trees as he was still being dragged.

“Dean!” Cas shouted. He wished he could fly, but his wings were too large to navigate through all of the low hanging branches. Instead, he kept his wings tucked into his back and ran, feet pounding the packed dirt beneath him. He heard a shout, a grunt, and then a thud. “Dean!” he shouted again, increasing his speed until he was going as fast as he could.

Cas pushed beyond the next few trees and his heart skipped a beat. Dean was safe. And holding up a twisted, humanoid head. Cas looked down and saw a body to match, tentacles and coiled skin wrapping around each other in a shape that only gave the most vague impression of a human.

“I think I got him,” Dean said with a proud little grin.

“Drop the head,” Cas told him. “Beheading only stuns him. If you want to kill it, you have to stab it in the heart.”

Dean made a disgusted looking face and threw the head away from himself.

“Besides,” Cas continued. “That’s not the real one anyway.”

“How do you know?” Dean asked, walking over to the corpse and stabbing it in the heart. He watched as the body disintegrated into dirt at Dean’s feet.

“I know my adversary,” Cas replied with a shrug.

“Alright, so that’s definitely not him, then,” Dean said, edging away from the now pile of dust. “So how do we find him?”

A smile grew on Cas’ face. He walked over to Dean and took him by the upper arm. “Like this.” Cas closed his eyes and put a little effort behind the thought. When he opened his eyes he was met with a breathtaking sight.

Wings spread out on either side of Dean like some golden eagle. It was almost painful to look directly at them, they were so bright. Cas hadn’t tried to put much effort into how the wings would look when he manifested them, but it made sense that their beauty would be befitting of Dean’s own.

“Do I look as badass as you?” Dean asked eagerly, wings quivering behind him. He turned his head to look at them as they instinctively curled forward so Dean could get a better look at them. He let out a low whistle. “Damn,” he said. “Not as cool looking as yours, but I’ll sure as hell take ‘em!” He twisted his wings every which way, getting a feel for them, before turning back to look at Cas. “Alright, Obi-Wan, teach me how these guys work.”

Cas smiled and took Dean by the hand this time. “Brace yourself,” he warned and then shot up through the trees, dragging Dean along behind him. He parted the leaves above them so they wouldn’t get caught in any branches, and then the two of them were bursting out into the beautiful blue of the sky.

“Flying should be instinctual,” Cas said, turning to face Dean who Cas could now see had his eyes squeezed shut. Cas couldn’t help but to let out a chuckle. “Dean,” he said, giving his boyfriend a nudge.

“Hm?” Dean asked, keeping his eyes closed tightly.

“Dean, open your eyes.”

“Oh, are they not open?” Dean asked in a much higher voice than usual. He cracked one eye open and let out a whimper.

“You didn’t think to mention during the planning portion of our evening that you are afraid of flying?” Cas wanted to cross his arms, but he was still helping support Dean by the grip he had on his hand.

“I thought it was just planes,” Dean said. He peeked both eyes open before slamming them shut again. “Flying metal death tubes shooting through the air with nothing but the grace of god keeping them up? I don’t even believe in the guy, so no thank you.” He took a deep breath. “Thought I’d be fine if I had wings of my own, you know?” He shook his head and let out a shaky laugh. “Turns out I just don’t like heights.”

Cas bit his lip. He didn’t want to be callous, but, “Do you think you’ll be able to get over it? My adversary could show up at any minute.”

Cas heard him mumble, “Pull it together, Winchester!” before taking another deep breath and letting it out slowly. He opened his eyes and this time they had a look of fierce determination. “Okay, I got this.” He gave a sharp nod and then groaned. “Oh god, I looked down.”

“Dean, you have wings,” Cas told him, trying and failing not to snap. “I literally made them so you won’t be able to fall. While I understand that phobias are irrational and telling you to get over them is pointless to the point of offensive, I’m going to really need you to dig deep and push past it anyway. The adversary could be back at any moment!” And practically on cue, the adversary knocked Cas right out of the sky.

Cas uprooted an entire tree in his crash. He looked up as he struggled to push himself back up and saw his adversary flying straight towards him. He manifested his sword, his earlier one lost somewhere along the way. He managed to bring it up just in time to block the talons swiping at his face. Grunting with the force of the blow, he used all the strength he had and shoved the adversary away. He had taken on the twisted form of a griffin it seemed, and its beaked mouth snapped and hissed.

Cas finally managed to free himself from the wreckage of the tree and he flew forward, sword aiming directly for his adversary’s heart. He missed, as he knew he would. His was still a little dazed from his meeting with the tree, so his speed wasn’t at the same level as his adversary’s quite yet. His blade sunk deep into the trunk of the tree behind where his adversary had just been. Cas put his feet on either side of where his blade was stuck and kicked off, wrenching it free and launching himself at his adversary behind him. He managed to spare a thought for Dean, hoping he was okay, wherever he was.

\--

Dean was not okay. Cas had been tackled out of the sky by something that looked straight out of a fairytale from hell, and as if that wasn’t bad enough, it had happened _before_ Cas had explained how the whole _flying thing_ worked. And now Dean was stuck fighting some insane looking vulture creature who had half of its feathers missing but somehow made up for it in teeth. _Teeth_. Did vultures even have teeth?

The thing lunged for him, its beak full of teeth snapping at him, missing him by inches as Dean’s wings beat behind him to bring him backwards. Thank god Cas had made the things pretty self-explanatory. He doubted he’d win any finesse competitions, but he pretty much only had to think a direction for his wings to bring him that way, for which he was eternally grateful. The feeling of having two extra limbs was weird enough, he doubted he’d be coordinated enough with them to think about proper wing movements as well.

“Dude, you are one fugly son of a bitch,” Dean told the thing as he avoided another one of its attacks. He had his machete in his hand and his gun tucked into the back of his pants, but he was finding it difficult to do more than dodge attacks. Dean needed to get back on the ground. Cas’ adversary definitely had the advantage in the air, but on the ground Dean knew he had it in the bag. He practically grew up hunting down monsters in the forest.

He dodged another attack, this time managing to slice into one of its wings with his machete. The thing let out a terrible screech and Dean used its distraction to dive down into the sea of trees. He aimed for where he thought Cas had crashed.

He landed hard on the ground, stumbling a few steps until he regained his balance. He pulled his wings in close to his back and began weaving through the trees. He could hear the adversary on his tail, but it had definitely changed into something with feet if the stomping behind him was anything to go by. He didn’t look behind himself as he ran; it would only slow him down and right now he was focused on getting back to Cas.

Dean tripped over a tree branch and went sprawling along the forest floor. He tried pushing himself up but before he managed it there was a foot on his back, pressing him into the dirt.

 _“Little Castiel brought a friend for us_.”

            “ _Just for us_.”

Dean shivered. That voice sent a chill down his spine and put ice in his veins. Was it possible to sound cold? Like scratching at the thin icy covering of a lake in the dead of winter.

“I know you got a face perfect for the radio, but buddy, with that voice your only audience would be the deaf.” It wasn’t Dean’s best line, but he was a little preoccupied with the giant, probably gnarly looking foot trying to squash him into the ground.

_“It likes to joke.”_

_“Joke.”_

_“Let’s tell it a joke back.”_

_“Joke back.”_

It raised its foot off of Dean’s back only to stomp back down, hard. Dean let out a cry and felt at least one rib snap.

_“What happens to little bugs who go where they don’t belong?”_

_“Don’t belong!”_

_“They get squashed.”_

_“_ SQUASHED _!”_

The last word was roared out and the creature lifted its foot for one final stomp, but Dean was ready this time. Pushing past the pain in his chest, Dean rolled the second he felt the foot leave his back. He swung his machete up at the same time and managed to slice the top of the adversary’s foot clean off.

A terrible shriek rang through the air. Dean used the opportunity to push himself to his feet and start running again, eternally grateful that he had managed to keep hold of his weapons in the scuffle. He felt like he had been run over by a tractor, but he kept running. He knew that if he could just get to Cas, they could put their plan into action.

\--

Cas heard his adversary let out an almighty screech, but the one he was currently fighting was too busy snapping its beak at him to have made the sound. He let out a sigh of relief that it at least sounded like Dean had the upper hand. It also meant he had a bearing on which way to go. He brought his feet up and kicked out at his adversary. It didn’t send him flying, but it did put his adversary off balance long enough for Cas to make a run for it. He weaved through the trees, practically flying, though he kept his wings tucked in tightly to better navigate the narrow gaps through the trees.

The scream had stopped, but Cas still had a pretty good idea of which way to go, and he was proven correct a few moments later when Dean popped out from between two trees, ashen faced and holding his ribs.

“Dean!” Cas called. Dean looked over and caught Cas’ eye. “Up!”

Dean nodded once and then shot up into the sky. Cas watched him go, bursting through the trees and out of sight, and then turned to face both of his adversaries who were rushing him from both sides.

Cas grinned as he looked from one to the other, both racing towards him on a mixture of feet, clawed paws, and talons. He raised his hands and vines shot out of the ground, wrapping themselves around both his adversaries and crushing them into the ground.

Cas’ grin turned into a full blown smile and he followed Dean’s path and shot up into the sky. The vines wouldn’t hold them forever, but Cas didn’t need them to. He just needed them to last until he was clear of the forest, and after a few seconds, he was.

Dean waited for him, rising and falling with the beating of those gorgeous wings.

“Light ‘em up,” Dean told him with a grin.

Cas lifted a hand up and snapped. The forest below burst into flames.

“I told you that you needed to take more advantage of being able to control the landscape,” Dean told him, jerkily making his way through the sky towards him.

Cas nodded, but he was grimacing. That had taken a lot more out of him than he had expected.

Dean seemed to have noticed, because the next thing Cas knew, Dean was helping to support him with an arm wrapped around his waist.

“Hey, you okay?” Dean asked him, concern touching his voice and sparkling in his eyes.

Cas nodded. “I just need a minute. That was a lot in a very short amount of time.”

Dean looked down at the blaze below, the inhuman shrieks of Cas’ adversary ringing over the sound of flames spitting and popping. “Smokey the Bear would be very disappointed in us,” he said.

Cas let out a small chuckle. “Hopefully he can forgive us this one time. It’s not a real forest, after all.”

“Good point,” Dean conceded. The two of them watched the blaze for a few more moments before Dean added, “Too bad we don’t have any marshmallows.” He clicked his tongue in regret. “I could go for some s’mores right about now.”

Cas shook his head fondly. “Give me a few more minutes to recover and you may just get your wish.”

Dean gave him a peck on the cheek. “How did I get so lucky?” he asked with a dopey smile.

Cas blushed and turned to reply just in time to see a ball of fire flying straight at them.

“Move!” Cas shouted, shoving Dean away and leaving himself in the path to get hit by what he could now see was the winged humanoid form of his adversary who was _on fire_. It grabbed onto Cas, burning through the layers of clothes on his arms and charring his skin and taking off with him high into the sky. Cas watched on helplessly over his adversary’s shoulder as another flaming figure hit Dean, taking them both into the lake at the edge of the forest. With what little strength Cas had regained, he sent a thought out to Dean and, with a little finesse, managed to send Dean a pair of gills that would hopefully work in conjunction with his lungs depending on which he needed. Since Cas couldn’t be sure he would see him emerge from the water or whether he’d have enough energy at that moment to switch it back he figured he should just try and cover all of his bases. He also gave Dean a set of metal wings because he knew he’d get the reference, even though he hated seeing those gorgeous golden wings go.

All of this happened within seconds and the next thing Cas knew they’d reached Plan B.

He crashed through what felt like a ceiling, sending chunks of blue tile scattering to the blazing forest fire down below. On the other side of that ceiling, they were weightless.

Cas didn’t think that outer space was actually as colorful as he had painted it, but he had taken inspiration from the galaxy cupcakes that Dean always pinned to the pinterest he wouldn’t admit he had. Purples, blues, and pinks swirled through the air, streaks of gold glittering throughout as stars dusted the scene like sparkling sprinkles.

They were floating in zero gravity, but Cas had made sure provide his space with plenty of oxygen so he wouldn’t suffocate himself.

He swam through the air slowly, clumsy in his movements but confident that he still had the upper hand.

But then there was a high pitched susurrus of laughter.

“ _You think I can’t play here?”_

_“Play here?”_

_“Oh silly little Castiel. I live here.”_

_“Live here.”_

_“In the dark. In the endless.”_

_“In the floating spots between your thoughts.”_

Cas hated that the words sent a chill down his spine, but Cas hadn’t felt this afraid since the early days where Cas spent his time running and hiding from his adversary. Apparently zero gravity had been a terrible idea because his adversary seemed to glide through space like his thoughts moved him along while Cas still struggled.

His adversary came up close to his face, flames still licking at his greyish skin.

_“Oh Castiel.”_

_“Castiel.”_

_“It’s been so fun playing with you.”_

_“Playing with you.”_

_“But I’m getting bored.”_

_“BORED!”_

Cas tried backing away, getting back towards the hole they crashed through and gravity, but his adversary grabbed him by the arm and held him in place. Cas still had a grip on his blade but he knew he wouldn’t be quick enough to stab him and he feared getting disarmed since he wasn’t sure he had the strength to manifest a new weapon.

Cas looked into his adversary’s eyes and watched as the flames dispersed over his skin, leaving no trace they had ever been there. And then his adversary’s face began to change, which wasn’t the most shocking thing for Cas to see happen since it was a shapeshifter, but the face it took on did leave Cas’ jaw hanging.

“Lucifer?” he spluttered as the face of his long dead brother stared at him with a shark like grin.

“Hello Castiel.”

            “ _Castiel_.”

Lucifer’s mouth didn’t move on the repetition of his name, and the voice was the icy tone of his humanoid adversary.

“What is this? Why do you look like Luc?” Castiel demanded, forgetting for the moment that he was in no position to do so.

“Because baby brother,” Lucifer told him sickly sweet. “I am Lucifer.”

            “ _I am Lucifer_.”

Cas froze. “What?”

“You didn’t think I’d died along with my body, did you Castiel?”

            “ _Did you Castiel_?”

“Me and the monster, well, we’d already bonded by then.”

            “ _We’d already bonded_.”

Cas clenched his jaw. “But why?”

“You’re so boring, Castiel.”

            “ _So boring.”_

“I was too until he showed me the way.”

            “ _Show you the way_.”

“There’s power, Castiel.”

            “ _Power_.”

“You can have everything you’ve ever wanted.”

            “ _Ever wanted_.”

Cas shook his head. “You’re offering this to me now? After all these years of fighting? My whole life has been spent fighting you and now you think I’ll join you?”

Lucifer grinned, his mouth spreading wider than it had in real life. “You’re going to die tonight one way or another, Castiel.”

            “ _Die tonight_.”

“You’ve gotten so boring.”

            “ _Boring_.”

“I wanted to give you an easy way to go.”

            “ _Way to go.”_

Cas clenched his jaw. “I’m not going anywhere.” He brought his knees up and used them to kick off of Lucifer to launch himself back towards the hole in the sky. Lucifer grabbed him around the ankle and yanked him back. Cas followed along with the motion and brought his blade up, stabbing Lucifer in the shoulder.

Lucifer shrieked in his voice and the high pitched screech of his monstrous form.

Cas tugged his blade out and kicked off of Lucifer again, this time making it to the edge of the hole. He grabbed it and pulled himself through, falling out onto the other side. He managed to get his wings working before he landed on the still burning forest, and then his only thought was to find Dean.

\--

Dean was kicking ass. Somehow after he’d been knocked out of the sky and into the water he’d been given gills and a pretty fuckin’ sweet set of _metal wings_ . Dean _knew_ Cas liked that movie. Who can say no to Sansa as Jean Grey? And Olivia Munn as Psylocke? Well, let’s just say Dean had never felt more bisexual than the moment he was sitting in the theater next to his super-hot boyfriend while watching Psylocke kick some ass on the big screen.  

But that was all beside the point. To repeat: Dean was kicking ass. Cas (he was assuming it had to be him anyway) had given him weird turquoise green fins on his arms and legs in addition to the gills and super awesome wings. And those things let him glide through the water with a precision equal to his movements on land. With his machete in hand he sliced through everything Cas’ adversary threw at him. Literally.

He was pretty sure Cas’ adversary had taken on the form of a kraken or something; he couldn’t see it for the surprisingly murky water, but large tentacles kept coming at him from almost every direction, though they had yet to actually get past his machete and wings.

Although, now that Dean was thinking about it, he wasn’t exactly landing any vital blows on the thing. He could have smacked himself in the forehead. Here he was thinking he was kicking ass when really he had just fallen right into the creature’s trap. Cas even told Dean that it liked to fight from afar, avoiding any serious damage to itself. His frustration tasted bitter on his tongue; he couldn’t even begin to imagine how Cas felt after a lifetime of this bullshit.

Dean swung his machete down and sliced off the tentacle that was shooting at him. He shouted an expletive that left his mouth in a bubble. A literal large, single bubble. He had the distinct impression that when it reached the surface it would actually let out the fuck he had given. He couldn’t help it; he laughed.

Cas’ adversary used the opportunity to grab Dean by the ankle and pull him down. Dean used a wing to slice it off and began swimming to the surface. If he was going to fight this thing he wanted to be able to see the whole thing.

His fins helped him glide easily through the water towards where he could see the orange yellow glow of the reflection of the fire on the surface. His first breath of air had him spluttering and choking on a mouth full of water. It seemed that the moment his forehead hit fresh air his gills stopped working and his lungs had kicked back in. He kept coughing as he swam towards the shore and the dozen or so yards the shallow beach would provide as an arena for his fight. Thankfully his fins and flipper like feet hadn’t disappeared so he made it to shore in record time.

He blinked the water out of his eyes and spit the last of the water out of his mouth, his coughing fit now over. He quickly scanned the sky for Cas but only saw a large black dot. Dean clicked his tongue. He had been hoping to fight up there in zero gravity, but he guessed he’d just have to wait for Cas to regale him with the details later.

Dean made it fully onto dry land and the flippers on his feet disappeared, along with the fins on his arms. He smiled as he realized his metal wings had stayed. He turned back towards the shore, waiting to see what form the creature would take next. He didn’t wait long.

A large tiger like figure appeared, slinking out of the water and onto the sand. It turned to face Dean with a smile filled with sharpened teeth.

Dean could play the intimidation game, too. He spread his metal wings out behind himself in a pretty impressive display, if he did say so himself. Out of the corners of his eyes he could see the flames reflected on the blades of his wings. He’d never been so mad to not have a camera, not that he’d be able to bring the photos out of Cas’ dreams anyway, but still. Dean looked _badass_.

He lifted the hand not holding his machete and beckoned the monster over with a crook of his fingers. The creature didn’t make him wait, pouncing almost immediately and jumping further than Dean thought possible, landing on top of Dean. Dean fell to the ground, the weight of the massive hairless paws keeping him in place. The attack had knocked the machete out of Dean’s hand and he groaned at his previous arrogance.

The thing got in Dean’s face, breathing its putrid breath and dripping saliva onto him. “Ugh, you are one smelly son of a bitch.”

Dean grabbed at the paws, trying to move them but to no avail. He tried to shimmy his body to hopefully dislodge the creature, but it was again ineffective. It did, however, remind Dean of the gun he had tucked into the back of his jeans as he felt it push into the small of his back. He reached a hand behind himself, cut his arm on one of his feathers, but managed to grab the gun. He pulled it out in a fluid motion, aiming and letting a half a dozen shots fly directly into the things chest.

The creature roared out its last breath and Dean felt a moment of pride mixed with relief until the thing landed directly on him. The weight of the creature knocked the wind out of Dean as he felt himself sink further into the sand. Hopefully this thing would disintegrate soon so Dean could breathe without the crushing weight of a tiger monster on his lungs. Until then he had no choice but to wait and stare at that black dot in the sky. It wasn’t long before he saw someone fall out of it.

\--

Cas flew straight to the water. He had to make sure Dean was okay. A rather large figure was splayed out on the shore, so that’s where Cas headed.

“Dean!” he shouted as he got near enough to see that Dean was trapped underneath a giant catlike form of his adversary. _Luc_. He shook his head. He’d deal with that therapy bill later.

“Cas! Behind you!” Dean called back.

Cas didn’t even have enough time to react before he felt feet dig into his back, sending him crashing to the beach below.

“Castiel, Castiel,”

            “ _Castiel._ ”

Cas pushed himself up onto all fours, each of his limbs shaking so badly they could barely hold his weight. He was exhausted. Mentally, physically, emotionally. He’d say he wants to sleep for a week when this is all over, but he’s never looked at sleep as a comfort before.

“Why are you running?”

            “ _Running_?”

“This could all be so easy.”

            “ _So easy._ ”

Cas looked over at him, standing there with his arms spread in welcome. And then he looked beyond him to where Dean was limping over, the body that had been on top of him disappeared to dust on the ground. They made eye contact and Dean winked.

Cas forced himself to his feet and took a fumbling step towards his adversary, towards Luc. “I want it to be easy,” Cas said. “I want this to be over, so I’ll take the easy way out.”

Lucifer’s eyes momentarily widened in shock but it was quickly replaced with a look of pure smugness.

“Of course. We’ll make it so easy.”

            “ _So easy_.”

Dean tapped Luc on the shoulder. “Riddle for ya,” Dean said as Luc spun around almost comically. “What’s a question you can never honestly answer yes to?”

Luc froze and Cas stumbled the next few steps, raising his blade and aiming right for his adversary’s heart.

“Are you asleep?”

            “ _Are you asleep?_ ”

Cas lunged and he felt the exact moment his blade pierced his adversary’s heart. It felt like something in his head snapped.

“Actually,” Cas said directly into his adversary’s ear, “the answer we were looking for is, ‘Are you dead?’”

A loud crack rent the air and then a shriek so loud both Cas and Dean dropped what they were holding to slap their hands over their ears. A bright white flash blinded them both for a moment and then the two of them were blasted backwards as his adversary exploded into the air.

\--

Cas shot up in bed. The heart monitor was beeping wildly and he could hear Gabriel shouting his name over and over again, though he could barely hear it over a ringing in his ears.

“You did it Cas! Holy shit, you fucking did it!” Gabriel was shouting and the next thing he knew Gabe was crushing him in a hug, continuing to shout directly into his ear. “Oh my god, Cassie, you’re finally free!”

Cas wasn’t ashamed to admit he burst into tears right then and there.


	7. Epilogue

Cas practically slept for a week straight. He’d get up to eat and use the restroom, but even then he always seemed like he was in some sort of sleepy haze.

“Shouldn’t we be concerned?” Dean asked Gabriel on the fourth day.

Gabe just shrugged. “It’s the first time he’s slept since he was four, cut him some slack.” And then he went about his business as Dean sat awkwardly by Cas’ bed for the fourth day in a row.

The next day Cas was awake and alert enough to tell Dean, “Dreaming is wonderful,” before promptly passing right back out. It at least alleviated some of Dean’s worrying.

The seventh morning Cas woke up and stayed up.

“Well good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” Dean said with his most charming grin.

“Coffee,” Cas grunted.

“Brewing.”

Cas grunted again.

“For someone who’s been asleep for a whole week, you sure are a lot sleepier than I thought you’d be when you woke up.”

Cas shot up in bed. “I’ve been asleep for a week?” he asked in a somewhat strangled voice.

“Yeah, dude,” Dean told him. “It’s been boring as hell.”

Cas slumped dejectedly back onto his pillows. “I’ve been asleep for a week,” he repeated, this time in sad acceptance.

Dean nodded. “We’ve missed you at the bakery.”

Cas shot up again. “Oh my god, the bakery!”

Laughing, Dean gently pushed Cas back down onto the bed. “Sweetheart, the bakery is fine. You think it’s going to burn down without you there? I’ve been giving the part-timers a few more hours here and there, no biggie.”

Cas nodded. “Okay, good. That’s good,” he said.

Dean watched as some of the stress on Cas’ face melted away. He was gorgeous like this, with his hair messy from sleep, the cheek he’d been laying on still pink from where it was pressed against his pillow, blue eyes bright.

“So when did you want to move in again?” Dean asked without really meaning to. He was supposed to wait, to give Cas time to process.

But Cas just grinned and replied, “Give me twenty minutes to shower and pack.” He was ready in eighteen.

\--

Dean waved out the last of the morning rush crowd, letting out a sigh of relief when the door clicked shut behind them. It had been an exhausting morning. Today was the first day that Dean had introduced some of his more unique recipes. Cas had finally convinced him to take the plunge, and the first new item on the menu was a rum cake muffin with a brown sugar and bacon crumble. Not the most inventive, but he was happy taking baby steps to ease himself into it.

“I told you people would like your recipes,” Cas told him and Dean didn’t even have to turn around to see the smug look he was sporting. He could hear it just fine in his voice.

But Dean turned around to see it anyway, mainly because it looked so damn sexy. “Yeah, yeah,” Dean said waving off the inherent compliment. He sauntered over to Cas who was wiping up the counter.

Cas didn’t look up at his approach.

“How are you doing today, huh?” Dean asked him. There had been some unforeseen consequences to Cas finally defeating his adversary, and numero uno on that list was the fact that Cas never learned to block out other people’s thoughts like most psychics did at a young age. Trapping the adversary had dampened his powers to almost nothing so he’d never needed to. Luckily Cas was a fast learner, but that didn’t stop some days from being overwhelming. “Lots of people coming in and out, thinking some really loud, probably really stupid thoughts.”

Cas let out a snort of laughter involuntarily. “Most of the stupid ones were coming from you.” He gave up with his cleaning and reached under the counter to the last muffin that he had hidden away to split with Dean later.

Dean put a hand over his heart in mock affront. “My own boyfriend of five months, calling me stupid!”

Cas furrowed his brow. “Six months,” he said with a slight frown.

“Huh?” Dean asked, taking the half of the muffin that Cas was proffering him.

“We’ve been together six months,” Cas repeated. “Tomorrow’s our six month anniversary.” Cas rolled his eyes as dramatically as possible. “I’m the one that was asleep for a week and yet it’s you that forgets the date. Of course”

Dean ignored the jab as he took a bite of the muffin. The butter, brown sugar, and rum flavors all hit his tongue and he was transported back to Cas’ fantasy. The kitchen, the pancakes. 

The ring. 

Five months was far too early, but six? Six months was a whole half a year. And that didn’t seem like too soon to propose at all.

Dean tore into his muffin with a smug smile of his own, but when he looked across the counter at Cas he froze. Cas was staring at him with wide eyes, the muffin that had been halfway to his mouth now lay forgotten on the counter where it had fallen.

Dean’s face felt like it had burst into flames and he knew he was bright red. “You, uh, didn’t happen to… um… hear anything just now, did you?”

Cas grabbed him by the apron and pulled him across the counter, sealing their lips together. “Yes,” he murmured between kisses. And again and again. “Yes, yes. Of course.”

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to give a HUGE thank you to my amazing betas!!! Thank you so much to [zebrashavestripes](http://zebrashavestripes.tumblr.com/) and [always-replaced4292](http://always-replaced4292.tumblr.com/)!!!! And THANK YOU once again to my absolutely awesome artist!!!! Check her out here at [topieornottopie](https://topieornottopie.tumblr.com/) and her art masterpost [here](https://topieornottopie.tumblr.com/post/166481171369/dcbb-fanart-d-ive-had-the-pleasure-of-drawing)! And finally a huge thank you to you for reading my fic!!! I really hope you enjoyed it!! Comments and kudos are always appreciated :)  
> And if anyone wants to check me out I'm right over here at [ireadhpinenochian](http://ireadhpinenochian.tumblr.com/)!


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